


Crime is of the Essence

by K8BNimble



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Mystery, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K8BNimble/pseuds/K8BNimble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a man he hasn’t seen in almost ten years appears in his home with a man he thought was dead for twenty years, Harry Potter knew his evening had just gotten complicated.  Written for Snarry Swap 2011. Named Hot Rec by "The Daily Snitch"1/18/2011.  Snarry, past Harry/Sherlock.  Long plotty mystery with light graphic slash sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Two Bodies, One Corpse

**Title:** Crime is of the Essence  
 **Pairings:** Harry/Severus, Past Sherlock/Harry, insinuated Sherlock/John  
 **Rating:** NC-17 (but not really until towards the end and on the light side – so fair warning to smut seekers)  
 **Word Count:** Approx. 42,700  
 **Warnings:** General man-sex between consensual partners. Mentions of drug use, violence, prostitution, thievery – but only by the bad guys and not described.*  
 **Summary:** When a man he hasn’t seen in almost ten years appears in his home with a man he thought was dead for twenty years, Harry Potter knew his evening had just gotten complicated.  
 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock nor do I make money from this. I just like playing with them. Harry Potter is owned by owned by JK Rowling, Scholastic and Warner Brothers in some combination and BBC’s Sherlock is owned by, well, BBC.  
 **Author’s Note:** This was a gift vividzephyr whose artwork always inspires me! She asked for a BBC Sherlock/HP crossover. This story is complete in eighteen parts.

Thanks to my wonderfully patient sister for being my beta and plot advisor when I got stuck. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

Special thanks to NambaWann, lorystar7, carolinelamb and reichan3586 for their help on the German translation in Chapter 13. If I messed it up, it’s completely my fault.

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.  
**  
If you are interested in learning more (or seeing pictures from the show), check out their main website: wwwDOTbbcDOTcoDOTuk/programmes/b00t4pgh (note: obviously replace ‘DOT’ with appropriate url formatting in your browser.

 

 **  
Crime is of the Essence    
**

_Prologue – Two Bodies, One Corpse_

The bright sunlight streaming through the broken windows was a stark contrast to the grime and filth in the room. Dust, dirt, blood, and several other fluids were spilled across the floor. Most people would not know what those other fluids were, nor would they probably want to know, given the grisly scene. There were obvious signs of a struggle: broken shelves, overturned furniture, and blood lightly splattered across the floor and the wall on the right.

The tall man who had found the scene was most interested in what the majority of observers would pass off as a pool of mud, a thick goopy mud, drying on the floor. It certainly looked like mud except for the bubbles that occasionally burst from it.

Normally, he wouldn’t have involved himself without a special request. This time, though, he had noticed the foul stench and broken windows as he walked by the building. But no one else seemed to even notice the store that, as of two days ago, hadn’t even been there. He thought the circumstances were unusual enough to warrant a look inside.

Two corpses. That’s what he saw. Or rather one corpse, a short man with graying brown hair, and one man with raven-black hair, unconscious, but seemingly dead. If anyone else had happened upon the scene, they would have assumed both men were dead. The man on the right certainly was as his throat had been cut. He turned to look at the other man. A long, sharp surgical knife was placed in his hand. At first glance, the pieces of the broken vase above the dark-haired man’s head would indicate that he had been hit by the first man as he defended himself. Or, he thought, a third person wanted the authorities to think that. Clearly, it was to be assumed that the man on the left was the attacker and that his victim managed to kill his killer before dying.

It was convenient. Messy, but convenient. Certainly, the local law enforcement agency would make that their working theory. It was also completely wrong.

He snapped off a couple of pictures before the familiar ringtone sounded. That was the call he’d been waiting for. He answered the line. An image of his partner appeared on the left side of the view screen while his own image appeared on the right as was usual in their video chats.

“John, where are you?” the man asked the caller. He centered the camera facing him so he knew John could see him.

“Hello to you, too, Sherlock. I’m stuck in Piccadilly Circus. I’ve been held up so I probably won’t make it there for some time."

Sherlock turned his blue-grey eyes to the window outside as he heard sirens heading in their direction. “I won’t be able to hold the scene much longer.” He looked at the clock on the viewscreen and cocked his head to listen to the approaching vehicles. “My guess is they are within 75 seconds of arrival."

“Well, then show me the scene. You might want to record it too,” John said. Sherlock coughed in irritation. As if he needed to be reminded of that.

After switching to the camera on the front of the phone, Sherlock did a slow pan around the room. Now he saw John on the left side of the viewscreen and the room on the right side. After a complete 360-degree turn around the room, he walked to the shorter man on the right and zoomed in on the neck wound.

“A long, thin, and very sharp knife made that wound,” John concluded. “Zoom out a bit more,” he requested.

Sherlock waited for the man to come to the same conclusion he had.

“Hmnn,” John mused aloud, “the man was dead or dying before that wound was inflicted. There’s not enough blood for it to have been the primary cause of death.” He paused a moment and then said, “What’s on his arm?” Sherlock zoomed the camera over and gently lifted a sleeve to expose a severe burn mark that covered the length of the man’s forearm. “It might help us identify him. I’m assuming you found no identification.”

“No. I haven’t touched anything. We have 45 seconds.”

“Fine. Thermal sensor, please.” Sherlock flipped the thermal app on the camera and the image of the body turned into varying shades of reds, yellows and blues. The enlarging blue areas indicated its rapidly cooling state.

“I’ll review that later for the time of death. Show me the other body,” John asked.

Sherlock took a few steps towards the other man. He was ghastly pale and his almost pitch black eyes were wide open as if in fear, or perhaps, surprise. Again, there was little in the way of blood. As Sherlock held the camera in his left hand, he swiped the muddy substance with the forefinger on his right hand. The somewhat stale odor was all too familiar. One taste confirmed it.

John’s voice interrupted Sherlock’s thoughts. “I believe that man is still alive. He’s not breathing but his body hasn’t cooled at all.” John sounded surprised. Sherlock had been so absorbed in the fluid he hadn’t been looking at the viewscreen. There was a small crunch from the back of the store. Sherlock looked up to see what the noise was but he realized the sirens were just outside and he was out of time.

A sudden thought occurred to him and he lifted the man’s left arm. The long black sleeve slid down and a very faded skull and snake tattoo came into view.

“I have to go,” Sherlock said and flipped the phone off without so much as a goodbye. He slipped it into his pocket and began rooting around in the other pocket. He heard the vehicle doors slamming as he fumbled for the one thing he’d never thought he would use. As he finally felt the small hexagonal shaped object he was searching for, he placed his other hand on the man and whispered, “Lemon Sherbet.” He felt a tug at his navel as the room before him shimmered and disappeared. The last thing he heard was the ringing of a small, high pitched bell indicating someone had opened the door and entered.


	2. The Trials of Parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's had a long day...

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----------**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 1 – The Trials of Parenthood_

“Harry, I wish you could stay longer.” Hermione Weasley smiled as she sat the tray of digestive biscuits on the table between them. She was one of his two best friends since school and she was married to the other one. He had stopped by their home on his way from work. He needed a short break before getting started on his evening’s assignment.

“Sorry, ‘Mione, I only have time for a cuppa today. Shacklebolt’s finally gotten irritated with my lack of following procedure and has assigned desk duty until I learn my lesson. He’s given me a stack of work to be done before tomorrow and it’s already been a long day.” Harry had a small smirk on his face and Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“Honestly, Harry. I would think you would do anything to get away from doing paperwork – even if it’s following proper Auror procedures. Even Ron can manage to do that. Did you get called into W.R. again?” She laughed at his predicament.

Harry took off his long red Auror robes and draped them over the back of the kitchen chair before he sat. Unlike his own long narrow kitchen, this was a square and spacious country-style kitchen. It was large enough to fit the entire Weasley clan and then some. Everyone ended up in this room during family gatherings. It was one of Harry’s favorite places to hang out. He considered the possibility that it was the company rather than the location that he enjoyed, but speculated that it might be time to renovate Grimmauld Place.

Harry nodded in response to Hermione’s question. “Of course. I think Pansy enjoyed being able to tell me she was making _’notes’_ in my personnel file on the day of the twentieth anniversary of The Dark Lord’s defeat.” He shook his head as he thought with frustration of the bureaucracy of the Ministry. “Ah, the miracle of Wizard Resources. In the morning I’m hailed as a hero and speaking at the Memorial Breakfast, but by the afternoon I’ve been transfigured into just a poorly performing lackey. She even threatened to finally put me in the mentoring program.” Harry stuck his tongue out in disgust. “I swear if she had been hired before me, I’d have never made it past the first interview.”

In an attempt to avoid taking responsibility for his latest violation of Auror protocols, he asked, “Speaking of Ron, where is he? Not only did _you_ abandon me today, but he left after the breakfast. I had to fend Skeeter off myself.”

“Since Hogwarts was also observing the holiday, Ron took the kids shopping. I needed everyone out of my hair for a few hours while I worked and Hugo needed supplies for a school project. Rose, as you can guess, wanted to shop for clothes. I also asked Ron to pick up a few books for the summer holidays. Not that I think they’ll ever open them,” she added with a half-hearted sigh.

“Not everybody likes to study the way you did, Hermione. I mean, I've never met anyone else who not only read _Hogwarts: A History_ the whole way through, but did it before their first year. You were always an overachiever.” He grinned at her and took a bite of his biscuit. “You are still are,” he added, just to annoy her.

She reached over and softly punched his shoulder as if insulted. “I know I can’t expect her to be like me. I just wish she’d take her studies a bit more seriously. It’s come as quite a shock that my own children wouldn’t have some level of enjoyment for learning.”

“You sound disappointed.” Harry paused for a moment. “Um…were you ever sorry for having kids?”

Hermione looked shocked, “Of course not!” Then she settled down. “I mean, I kind of wish sometimes we had waited a bit longer.”

Harry neither agreed nor disagreed. He knew she sometimes felt stifled early on in their marriage even while Ron thrived in parenthood. They had married far earlier than Harry would have expected, but after the war, many couples did. He thought, cynically at times, that they did it just so they could move on and forget about everyone that had been lost. He knew that wasn’t true but given how Ginny had pressured him back then, it sometimes felt like it was.

Hermione sighed and then continued her train of thought. “I just think maybe I would have had more patience had I waited. It’s hard for me to relate to them. It’s not like I had a normal experience being a teenager.”

 _‘True,’_ Harry thought. At Hugo’s age, Harry and Hermione were using a time-turner to save a fugitive. At Rose’s age, they were dealing with Dumbledore’s death. The memories were very fresh in his mind since he'd just had to rehash them all over again earlier that day, as he did every year. Harry reached over the table and patted her hand. “The kids love you. You know that.” He was glad the most difficult things his niece and nephew would have to face would be to pass their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s.

She nodded. “I know that, but honestly, I don’t think that they like me very much. Ron relates so much better to them. Maybe I’m too demanding,” she mused quietly. Harry took a sip of his Earl Grey without commenting. After a moment, she looked up at him. “Did you ever feel like I nagged you in school?” she asked seriously.

Harry coughed, choking on the tea. “Uh…well...no...of course not. I mean...”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.” Hermione smiled. Her short hair curled around her jaw line.

“Er…sorry. But I always knew you did it because you cared about my success. It was your way of showing you loved us. I may not have always appreciated it in that moment, but in the long run, I knew. So do they,” he reassured her.

“Harry, you really will be a good father when you’re ready.” Hermione smiled again, this time with a mischievous glint to her eye. “So, any news on that front?”

Harry sighed. “No. I think I’m never going to find the right person. I mean, I always swore that by forty I’d have kids.”

“That’s two years away, Harry! It could still happen.”

Harry gave her a dismissive look. He had pretty much given up. He tried not to let the disappointment show in his eyes, but now that he no longer wore glasses, he could no longer hide behind them. He was still someone who wore his heart on his sleeve.

She looked at him earnestly. “Harry, let me help. I can help you find someone. The _right_ someone.”

“Through one of those dating services?” Harry laughed with a hint of disgust on his face. “That worked so well the last time.”

“We didn’t do it right. Then everyone knew it was you. It didn’t attract the right sort of people.”

“It attracted the nutjobs, that’s who it attracted.” Harry groaned at the number of bad dates that posting had led to. “The celebrity hanger-ons. I can’t believe people still want to sleep with ‘The Chosen One’. No thanks. Not for me.”

“I know. I think we just need to do it more discreetly. Ron and I have been…”

Harry widened his eyes and stopped her. “You and Ron have what? Been lamenting about my pointless love life? Pitying me? Well, sorry I didn’t settle down and have babies with Ginny when you two did. I’m sorry his sister wasn’t good enough. Sometimes I think I should have just done that. Our kids could have played together.” Harry was mentally berating himself.

“Harry!” Hermione’s voice cut through Harry’s rant. “Harry, you know it’s not like that. Ron has never,” and, seeing the look on his face, she rephrased it, “Ok, he was mildly disappointed things weren’t fairytale perfect. He honestly thought you and Ginny would have been happy. He thought you were experimenting, like many boys do in school. You never had that chance to, being too busy saving the world and all.”

She grinned. “He thought you were a late bloomer, that’s all. He doesn’t care that you prefer men. He probably wished you ended up with one of his brothers, but he only wants you to be happy. Like I do.” She patted his hand.

“I thought you always said you didn’t need to be married to be happy,” Harry said, still feeling a little argumentative.

“I don’t, Harry, but you seem to. Ron and I, we love each other but if for some reason we had not found each other, I truly believe either one of us would have been happy being single. I believe you want someone to love that truly belongs to you. Sometimes, I think you don’t believe you deserve it.”

“Sorry. I know I’m being a sensitive prat but could we not psychoanalyze me?” Harry hated feeling so defensive.

“I don’t mean to. But it does explain why you either get involved in short term affairs with people you care nothing about or involved with men who are overly involved with their brains but not with their hearts.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. I would have thought you’d appreciate that I find intelligence sexy.” Harry laughed self-deprecatingly.

She smiled warmly at him. “I do. But you seem to find intelligent men who have little-to-no compassion. You have a great capacity for love, Harry, but you can’t make other people love. They have to have it within themselves. You don’t need to save them.”

“What? I don’t do…”

“What was that guy’s name? The investigator – ‘Sherlock’? You tried for how long to get him to love you?”

“He did love me, in his own way,” Harry defended the man.

“Right. But it wasn’t enough, was it? The man viewed you and your relationship like he did a case he was working on. Intellectually interesting and stimulating, but he had no real attachment to you other than as a specimen.”

“I thought you liked him?” Harry asked. Hermione always seemed to enjoy her lively discussions with Sherlock that went way over everyone else’s heads.

“I did. He was, he is, brilliant. But he was also brittle, Harry. And you need someone that can comfort you. That can feel passion. Was he passionate?”

“He was good in bed, if that’s what you mean.” She smiled somewhat sadly at this statement.

“I don’t mean the mechanics. I meant, was he passionate about you? Did you ever feel like he felt that he couldn’t live without you?”

“That’s silly, Hermione. Of course he could live without me. He’s done it for almost ten years hasn’t he?”

“But that’s not what you want. Deep in your heart, Harry, you need to be needed, not just wanted. Am I wrong?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He did have a penchant for overly intelligent men who didn’t consider Harry’s emotional needs important. He found their brilliance mindnumbingly attractive but then ended up feeling inferior since he wasn’t as smart as they were. His heart never seemed to be enough for them.

“You don’t need to answer that. Just think about it,” Hermione said.

“It doesn’t feel right to methodically search out for the person I should marry. I always thought that true love would find me. That if I was worthy of it, the right person would find me, like magic,” Harry whispered.

Hermione stood up and walked over to Harry’s seat. She bent down and hugged him from behind. “You are a real romantic, you know that, right?” Harry nodded, blushing. “Well – like most magic, you have to put a little of yourself into it and use a little discipline. You are worthy of it, Harry.” She kissed his cheek.

“Oy – Wife! What are you doing holding my best friend like that?!” Ron’s voice boomed through the room as he came in carrying an armful of shopping bags. Hermione and Harry laughed as Hermione pretended to passionately lick Harry’s ear. Ron pretended to be dismayed and swept into the living room.

“Hi, Mum. Look at all the stuff Dad got us!” A spritely young woman bounced in behind Ron. She was tall, like her father and had his hair coloring but she had the thickness and curls of her maternal line. A sullen teenage boy came in after her and went straight through the kitchen and up the stairs without acknowledging anyone.

“I see Hugo is still being surly,” Harry observed.

“He’s thirteen,” Hermione replied as if that was all the explanation needed.

“He’s been a real brat all day, too!” Rose exclaimed as she ran up to Harry.

“Hi, Uncle Harry!!” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and plopped down in the chair next to him. “Gosh, I’m starving!” She grabbed a couple of the biscuits and shoved them in her mouth. Harry laughed at her unusual enthusiasm for snacks.

“Not watching your girlish figure today?” Harry teased. Rose was always talking about going on a diet even though she clearly didn’t need to lose weight. She leaned forward and bit into a biscuit right in Harry’s face as if daring him to say she couldn’t have it.

“Guess not,” Harry concluded.

“Rose, did you borrow my brush?” Hermione asked.

“Eww…why would I do that?” she asked. “I have my own.”

“I couldn’t find it this morning.”

“You’re always misplacing things, Mum,” Rose pointed out. She leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Harry, “She works too hard. It rots the mind.” Harry grinned at his niece.

“Yeah. I know. I just can’t remember where I laid it down this time. Ron and Hugo wouldn’t use it, would they?” Hermione seemed perplexed.

“Does Ron even know what a brush is, Hermione?” Harry teased.

“I heard that!” Ron yelled from the living room. He came back into the kitchen after dropping off all the bags. “Heya, Harry. Staying for dinner?” He lightly squeezed Harry on the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the refrigerator. He pulled a beer out. Hermione raised an eyebrow at her husband as he sat down with it.

He looked at her as he opened the bottle. “I’ve spent the entire day shopping with the kids. I deserve this.”

“Great thing to teach our children, Ron; Alcohol is a great way to relax. Look Daddy does it!”

“Lay off him, Mum. I don’t like beer anyway so he’s not teaching me anything new," Rose blurted out around a mouthful of crumbs.

All three adults swung their heads at her dumbstruck.

“And where have you ever tried beer, young lady?” Hermione stared at her daughter.

The girl’s eyes widened.

Harry stood, “I think this is my cue to leave.”

Rose jumped up. “Uncle Harry – no!! I mean…um…” She pulled her tee-shirt taut against her chest. She was built rather delicately, like her mother. “Don’t you think I should get a boob job?! Look how flat these things are. Uncle Harry, tell them you think it would be ok. Mum won’t let me.” She batted her green eyes at him, pleadingly.

Harry turned several shades of red and a couple of purple ones, too. “I, uh, well…I can’t say…” he stuttered.

“Rose Molly Weasley!” Hermione stood. She was clearly livid. “Your room, now!”

“Mum!!! I just…”

“Now! Ron – tell her!”

Ron was also flushed. “Rose, you better do as your mother says,” Ron said very quietly.

Rose looked aghast at her father. “But Dad!”

“Now, Rose,” he repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.

“And you can forget movie night with Uncle Harry this Saturday, young lady!” Hermione added in her sternest voice.

Rose’s eyes widened and she stamped her feet on the floor. “I hate you!” she shrieked.

Harry stood stock still during the exchange and then shuffled a bit. Rose turned and seeing he was still there turned red once again and ran out of the room.

Hermione turned to Harry. “Sorry. You sure you want kids?” she asked with a heavy sigh.

“Maybe not…” he chuckled. “What was that about, anyway?” He waved his hands near the vicinity of his chest to indicate what part of the conversation he was asking about. He couldn’t really say it. It was his niece. He used to bathe her as a baby. It was just…weird.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “She’s been asking about getting plastic surgery.”

“You mean – Muggle plastic surgery? Why?”

“Some kids at school have been teasing her about being flat-chested. They did a charm spell so she could see what it looked liked to be more well-endowed, but charms don’t last. Nothing magical will make that change permanent. Then, one of her friends picked up a Muggle magazine that had an article about breast enhancement and now she’s obsessed with it. She’s convinced she needs it to become a model.”

“I blame Scorpius Malfoy,” Ron muttered.

“Scorpius? What’s he got to do with it?” Harry asked looking puzzled.

“Ron, we don’t know that he’s the one who said anything.” She turned to Harry.

“She won’t tell us who started it but Scorpius has been hanging around her a lot lately according to Neville. He gave us a fire-call last month. He’s been concerned that Rose has been hanging out with different people lately. As the Deputy Headmaster, he felt he should notify us about it.”

“Scorpius hasn’t been in trouble, has he?” Harry asked. He didn’t keep track of what happened at Hogwarts but as an Auror, he certainly knew which Wizards were accused of breaking the law.

“Hasn’t been caught more likely,” Ron said. “He is a Malfoy. I expect there’s an unwritten family law that requires them to tease the Weasleys.”

“Yeah, but I can’t imagine any Malfoy recommending a Muggle solution.” Harry said.

He looked at his watch. It was much later than he thought. “I’d really better go.”

“Sorry about Saturday, Harry. You’re about the only real thing we can use as a punishment,” Hermione said.

“Thanks, Hermione. That means a lot,” Harry said with a chuckle. “It’s nice to be thought of as a form of punishment.” He grabbed his robes off the back of the chair and threw them over his arm.

“You know what I mean. Your monthly movie nights matter to her. It’s the only thing that seems to work anymore. I’m sorry it’s a punishment for you, too.” She smiled softly at him, evidently upset that she had to include him.

“You’ll still let Hugo come, right?”

“Of course, but you may not get any actual conversation from him. Maybe Ron can join you since it obviously won't be ‘date night’ for us. I’ll have to stay home with Rose.”

Ron grinned. “Yeah…I’d like that. Us guys can watch some of those manly action flicks the girls hate.” Ron suggested enthusiastically. Harry thought Ron was unusually chipper about the change in plans.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Harry agreed and turned to the Floo. He hoped he could whip through the stacks of paperwork quickly. There was a Quidditch match tonight he wanted to watch. Thank Merlin someone had finally figured out how to use Muggle electronics like tellies and toasters in the Wizarding World. He could finally watch all the matches he couldn’t attend in person. The Harpies were playing the Falmouth Falcons. Ginny would be playing and even though they were no longer together romantically, he still loved her like a sister and enjoyed rooting for her. They were playing in Falmouth tonight. With all the work Harry had in front of him, he couldn’t attend the game in person.

The whirring feel of the Floo whooshed through him and he landed inside of his own living room at Grimmauld Place. At least now he landed on his feet consistently. He brushed the ash off his robes.

“Where the hell have you been?” a long familiar voice asked from the couch of his supposedly empty home.


	3. You Again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Unexpected Blast from the Past

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\---------**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 2 – You Again?_

Harry whipped his wand around, dropping his robe on the floor. Before he could yell, “Stupefy,” he registered the lean and lanky form sitting on his sofa.

“Sherlock?” he managed to squeak out.

“In the flesh,” Sherlock answered. “I’ve been waiting for hours.”

Harry crossed his arms. That same smug tone was still there. “And how exactly was I supposed to know I needed to come running home? It’s not like you’ve contacted me in years.”

“I thought this little shiny trinket you gave me might ping you. That somehow you would know when I used it.” Sherlock was holding the Portkey he had used in his hands.

Harry walked over to look at the coin. “It’s not on the chain anymore,” he observed.

Sherlock shook his head. “Chain broke. Never got around to replacing it.”

“Well, I don’t wear mine either, which is why it didn’t ‘ping’ me, whatever that means. I didn’t even know you still had it.” Harry had given it him to use in the event of an emergency during one of their cases.

“Why don’t you wear yours?” Sherlock asked. He stretched out on the sofa looking entirely too comfortable.

“Uh, because we don’t see each other anymore. You’re not exactly who I would turn to in an emergency these days,” Harry spat, more bitterly than he intended. “I took it off a long time ago. It’s up in the bedroom.”

Suddenly Sherlock leapt up. “The bedroom! Yes! That’s where I need you!”

“What?” Harry started to say, but before he finished it, Sherlock grabbed his hand and began pulling him up the stairs to Harry’s bedroom. “Wait…I’m not…I don’t,” Harry was yelling the entire way up the stairs.

“The bed. Got to get you to the bed!” Sherlock insisted.

Harry pulled back hard and almost skidded to a stop right in front of the bedroom door. “Sherlock, I am not just going to jump into bed with you.”

“What? I didn’t ask you to.” The man turned and looked at him in confusion. He seemed genuinely perplexed. “I need you to see this.” He pushed the door wide open.

Harry’s shocked gaze widened even further as he shifted his sight from a man he hadn’t seen in almost ten years to a man he hadn’t seen in twenty. Severus Snape, Potions Master Extraordinaire, lay on his bed.

* * * * *

 

“What the…?” Harry gasped. “Where, what, how?” He didn’t even know where to start. He knew he was just babbling.

He made his way to the bed to confirm what his brain was telling him couldn’t be true. Severus Snape, his former professor, a man that had been dead for twenty years, was lying on his bed. He couldn’t tell if the man was alive or if Sherlock had brought his corpse to Harry for some reason. Snape wasn’t breathing but he seemed to have colour. He was cautiously reaching out to touch him when Sherlock interrupted him.

“He’s alive. I’m sure it’s some kind of spell keeping him like that.”

Harry hesitated and looked up at Sherlock. “He doesn’t look alive,” Harry said. Sherlock joined him at the bedside and held out his _iPhone_. Harry looked down at the screen to see the figure of Snape’s body on the screen. It wasn’t a photograph, though. It was a general outline of Snape’s form done in reds, yellows, oranges with some blues and greens at the extremities.

“Thermal sensing,” Sherlock answered before Harry asked. “Shows the temperature of the human body. The red areas indicate at least 98.7 and above, clearly showing that the man is alive.”

Harry reached out to touch the device, but Sherlock pulled it away quickly.

“Absolutely not,” Sherlock blurted out. “I don’t need your magic making my equipment all wonky. I just got this one.” Harry smiled as he remembered all the times he had accidentally erased or ruined Sherlock’s investigative equipment.

“I don’t leak magic anymore, Sherlock. I’ve learned to contain it in the last few years. All Wizards have. We even have tellies now.” Sherlock gazed at him intently as if trying to decide whether he was being truthful or not. If Harry didn’t know that Sherlock wasn’t actually a Wizard, he would expect he was attempting _Legilimency_. Of course, Sherlock’s powers of observation were so keen, he had never needed magic to read Harry’s mind. Just because he read it, though, didn’t mean he ever paid attention to it. Looking back at Snape on the bed, Harry was suddenly struck by their intellectual similarity.

Sherlock handed over his _iPhone_ and Harry observed that Snape’s body was indeed at near normal temperatures. He handed it back. He pulled his wand out to determine what magic might have been used on him. Before he began his diagnostics though, he turned back to Sherlock.

“Where did you find him?”

“In a shop off of Hyde Park. There was another man as well, but he was deceased. His throat had been slashed, though I don’t think that’s what killed him.” Sherlock pointed to Severus’ arm. “You’ll note the tattoo on his left arm. He’s a Death Eater, right? That’s why I brought him here. I didn’t think your people would have wanted him found by regular people.”

“Right. Did the other man also have a tattoo?” Harry asked.

“I think he might have but it didn’t look the same. It looked burnt. I only caught a glimpse before I had to leave. The locals were arriving.” Sherlock paused a moment. “I believe the intent was that it was supposed to look as though this man killed the other man, but that’s a false trail. There was a third person that is the real culprit.”

“Hmmnn…” Harry was deep in thought as he looked at Snape. The man hadn’t aged at all. He looked exactly the same as when he had left him in the Shrieking Shack except for the lack of blood and a large snake bite that should have been there. Instead, there was a very ragged scar along his neck. His eyes were still wide open. It creeped Harry out to see him like this.

He felt Sherlock’s tall body press in behind him. The man was leaning over his shoulder. “Should you call your people or take him to that hospital of yours? I didn’t know how to contact anyone but you.”

The voice talking softly into his ear sent a familiar shiver down Harry’s spine. He shook it off. What was past was past.

“No…no I think we’d best leave him here for now.” Harry could only imagine how happy the Ministry would be to find a resurrected Severus Snape at a murder scene.

“Let me see if I can reverse what’s happened.”

He knew Sherlock walked away when the heat from his back dissipated. Harry returned to concentrate on Snape as his former lover took a seat in the corner of the room.

“Never found anyone else, then?” Sherlock commented coolly.

Harry looked up to see Sherlock examining the room. “How did…nevermind. Let me work a moment before we go traipsing down Memory Lane,” he replied, slightly irritated.

He, once again, returned his focus to Snape. He summoned all the first aid diagnostics first to ensure that once he woke Snape up, the man wouldn’t immediately die on him. The spells showed that nothing serious was wrong. Snape basically had a _Petrificus Totalus_ cast on him. It was a simple enough spell to reverse.

 _“Finite Incantatum,”_ he whispered. He watched as Snape blinked a few times. Harry leaned forward to peer at Snape’s face. The man looked him in the eyes and suddenly grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward within an inch of his own face.

“Harry!” Harry felt spittle hit his face but then began to feel dizzy as a myriad of images surged through his mind. Snape pushed his way through Harry’s mental barriers. It had been years since anyone had caught him off guard. Then again, Snape was one of the strongest Legilimens there had ever been.

 _Snape lying on the floor in a pool of blood in the Shrieking Shack…..Harry looking up from the floor at Snape in the Potions classroom…Harry watching as a green light flew at him from Voldemort…Harry staring up into Lucius Malfoy’s face in second year…Harry himself easing onto Sherlock’s prick and watching the man’s face finally lose some composure…Harry struggling with a scarred and violent Vincent Crabbe…Harry running through a fire with three children in tow…Harry laughing with Ron and Hermione at last month’s Harpies home match….Harry sitting in detention with Gilderoy Lockhart…Kissing Cho Chang in the Room of Requirement…A drunken brawl with MacClaggen during Auror training…Facing the Wizengamot in 5th year…Dementors sucking his soul out…Sherlock swallowing his cock…_

Harry struggled to put his defenses back up and pull away. It was taking longer than it should.

 _Harry flying a broom for the first time…Serpensortia!...Harry watching Cedric Diggory die…Harry watching Sirius Black go through the Veil…Harry running into Snape in the dark corridors in his third year…Pettigrew begging to be spared…Harry rocking baby Rose to sleep…I must not tell lies…Meeting Slughorn…Fighting vampires in Turkey…Forcing Dumbledore to drink…Harry walking away from Sherlock for the very last time…_

A large hand clamped over his shoulder from behind and pulled him backwards, away from Snape. Wide-eyed at the broken connection, Snape and Harry both screamed. Snape fell backwards onto the bed, unconscious. Harry collapsed into Sherlock’s arms. He could feel those long arms around him attempting to hold him up, but Harry swiftly blacked out.


	4. Two Pasts Collide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Sherlock met Severus...

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 3 - Two Pasts Collide_

Harry slowly became aware that he was lying on his couch. There was a rather warm lumpy pillow below his head. He couldn’t quite remember how he got there. He wiped some crust from his eyes and began to sit up.

“Feeling better?”

Oh yes, it came back to Harry. Sherlock, Snape…

Harry shot up and faced Sherlock. “You idiot! You could have accidentally wiped my memory doing that! You never break a mental connection like _Legilimency_ that suddenly. It’s like sleepwalking!” No wonder he had such a headache. He felt woozy from the rush of blood to his head. He leaned against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes.

Sherlock just raised his eyebrows at him. “I didn’t know what he was doing. I was trying to protect you.”

Harry waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” Harry rubbed his temples and then looked at the man next to him. “Sorry. I was starting to pull myself out of it so it’s ok. Just don’t ever do that again. It can cause serious damage.” Harry stood up and went to the kitchen. Sherlock followed him. “Drink?” Harry asked as he pulled out a glass and turned the faucet on.

“Do you have anything other than water?” Sherlock asked.

“I probably have some lager, or if you’re sticking to non-alcoholic drinks, I have _Diet Coke._ ”

“Not going to offer me tea? How very unBritish of you,” Sherlock said with a slight smile. Harry opened a bottle of _Tylenol_ and downed a couple. Harry found that Muggle medicines sometimes sat in his stomach better than potions.

Sherlock went over the refrigerator and helped himself to a bottle of _Meantime Union_ lager.

“I don’t have the patience to make tea, right now,” Harry said.

“You’ve been travelling a lot I take it?”

Harry stared at him blankly. “Your refrigerator,” Sherlock explained. “It’s mostly empty except for some take-way from last night. You have drinks that don’t expire easily. No milk, no juice, no eggs. Condiments, but no perishable food. And your stove is dusty.”

“Maybe I don’t enjoy cooking anymore,” Harry snorted as he walked back into the living room. Leave it to Sherlock to figure Harry out from non-existent milk.

“Unlikely. You cook like other people meditate. You can do it without thinking and it gives your hands something to occupy themselves while you think about things that are important to you.”

Harry sat on the couch and contemplated Sherlock. He was still the same. He watched as Sherlock examined his living room – from the old battered sofa to the new leather recliner he'd just bought, from the shelves and tables lined with mementos and books to the photos of his friends: Ron and Hermione from school, the three of them at their wedding, the latest Christmas holidays at Molly and Arthur’s house, Luna and Neville and others. From the grandfather clock given to him by Arthur that now included Harry as part of their family to the collection of broomsticks Harry had bought over years and had mounted on the wall.

“You’ve also acquired trinkets from overseas." Sherlock picked up a snow globe tucked in the back of one of the book shelves. “Iowa Falls,” he read as he shook it. “Who’s there that was important to you?”

“Was?” Harry was curious despite himself. Sherlock had a way of seeing things no one else did.

“Was. Someone you wanted to remember, but clearly couldn’t stay with. A short term but passionate affair I think. Married? Maybe. No photos so that’s a possibility. But this has been pushed to the back and not looked at in some time so ‘was’, past tense. A fond memory, but nothing more.”

“You never change. Everyone has to be an open book to you. I’m still just a case study,” Harry said, irritated as he walked up and yanked the globe away from Sherlock and put it back on the shelf after wiping the dust off.

Sherlock looked surprised at the tone in Harry’s voice, but Harry continued, “No, he wasn’t married. He was a Muggle I worked on a case with in the US. A Muggle that was a demon hunter. He didn’t particularly care for magic or magic users. I learned that just a little too late.”

“I am sorry, Harry.”

“Don’t be. I never thought it would last. It was just a long case and we were both tired and lonely. He doesn’t hate me, if that’s what you think. We just knew that long term it would never work. Two different worlds.” _‘Much like our own relationship,’_ Harry thought.

“Ah. And that man in the bed upstairs? Would that work for you?”

“What?!” Harry was flabbergasted at the implication.

“It’s obvious you know one another – and well I might add.”

“No! It’s nothing like that. That’s Severus Snape! He was my professor.”

“Ah, so that’s the infamous Severus Snape. I recall how often you spoke of him.”

Harry blushed. Had he really talked about Snape that much back then? Sherlock was still talking. “Well, that is a surprise. Isn’t he supposed to be a lot older? I mean, I know Wizards age differently. Look at you. You must be 38 and you don’t look more than 25 or 26. He only looks about forty and he should be in his sixties. Is that usual?”

Harry ran his hand through his already messy locks. “No, that is strange. He looks exactly the same as I remember.” Harry went and sat back down on the couch. “How did you find him again?”

Sherlock sat next to him and pulled out his phone. He flipped to the video recording of the room he had taped earlier. “Here’s the place. What do you make of it?”

Harry took the phone and watched the recording. He could hear the conversation between Sherlock and the other man. He looked up. “Who’s that on the other end?”

“John Watson. He’s a doctor.” Harry noticed the slightest hint of pink tinge Sherlock’s very pale face.

“Your new partner…in being a…What is it you call it again, Consulting Detective?” Harry asked.

“I suppose so. He helps me with cases,” Sherlock said. Harry noticed how Sherlock was underplaying John and their relationship. Harry could hear on the recording how Sherlock sought John’s advice. Sherlock rarely did that of anyone unless that person’s opinion was important to him. He chose not to pursue that line of thought as it depressed him that someone as socially challenged as Sherlock had managed to find someone new while he was still alone.

Harry zoomed in to see Snape’s body and noticed Sherlock’s finger swipe through the lumpy brown liquid on the floor.

“Is that…?” Harry began.

“Polyjuice Potion. Yes, it is.” Harry trusted Sherlock to know what it was. He had certainly used it enough in the past.

“Maybe we ought to go back up. Perhaps Snape isn’t really Snape, after all.” Harry stood to head back up to the bedroom.

“No need to. I’m sure he hadn’t taken it. If you look at the shelf just above him, there are a number of those bottles. I think it got knocked down in the fray. I’ve also been here for hours so he would have turned back by now.”

Harry nodded in agreement. He looked closer and panned and zoomed the image so he could see the shelves, or what was left of them, at least. Sure enough, there were a few similar looking bottles sitting on the remaining unbroken shelves.

“You said this store was in Hyde Park?” Sherlock nodded. Harry’s brows furrowed in thought. “Why would a store with Wizarding potions be in Hyde Park? There are no Wizarding licenses given for that area. That’s strictly a Muggle location.”

“Well, that is an interesting question,” Sherlock noted.

“HARRY!” Snape’s voice screamed, as if in terror from the upstairs bedroom. Both men jumped up and ran up the steps.

Severus Snape was sitting straight up in bed, wide-eyed and looking around the room frantically.

“Professor…sir?” Harry asked softly so as to not startle him. Snape looked up at him and froze like a stag caught in a _Lumos Maxima_ spell. He was panting heavily.

“Harry…I must find Harry,” Snape said repeatedly. He struggled to stand up but his legs didn’t hold. Sherlock and Harry ran over to help him back up onto the bed. Harry sat down next to him. Sherlock backed away a few feet.

“Sir, I’m right here,” Harry said and patted his shoulder reassuringly.

Snape looked back and forth between Harry and Sherlock curiously. “Who are you?” he asked Harry.


	5. Unlocking Severus Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the suspicions begin!

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\-----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 4 – Unlocking Severus Snape_

“I’m Harry,” Harry answered cautiously.

“I need Harry _Potter_ ,” Severus said argumentatively.

“I am Harry Potter.” Harry lifted his bangs up to show the scar once again. It had been awhile since he had needed it to prove who he was.

Severus reached up and gently traced the scar on Harry’s forehead and then searched Harry’s eyes. Harry did not feel the push of _Legilimency_ as he would have expected.

“You’re Harry Potter?” Snape sounded confused.

“Yes. I know it’s been some time, sir, but it really is me. Why did you need me?”

Severus slumped a bit. “I…I don’t remember,” he admitted quietly.

Sherlock stepped closer to the two of them and knelt down. “You don’t remember why you needed Harry?” Severus looked at the curious man kneeling before him.

“No…I think…” Snape screwed up his face in thought. Harry could see he was struggling with trying to find the memory. “I think he’s,” and he turned to Harry again and looked at his face, “…that _you’re_ in danger.”

Harry smiled at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He patted Snape’s thigh. “How are you feeling?”

Snape concentrated again and blinked several times. “Tired. Where am I?”

“You’re at my house. I’m still at living at Grimmauld Place.”

“So, you know me?” Severus asked cautiously. That caused both Harry and Sherlock to sit up a bit more attentively.

“Of course. I’ve known you for years. What do you mean by that?” Harry asked.

“Then – who am I?” Severus asked in a sharp whisper.

Harry jerked back and then glared at Sherlock. Sherlock grimaced. Apparently both of them didn’t come out of that _Legilimency_ break fully intact.

Harry took a deep breath. “Sherlock, why don’t you go make some tea for us.”

“What? Why? I can’t…” Sherlock began to argue.

“That’s the _least_ you can do right now,” Harry said, tightly. Sherlock huffed but left the room. Under other circumstances, Harry would have been amused at the thought of Sherlock making tea. He’d probably burn the water. He certainly never made it when they were together. That was Harry’s job.

He turned back to the man on the bed with him and took his hand. Snape had the look of a frightened child which discombobulated Harry. He’d never seen Snape actually scared.

“You’re Severus Snape. You used to be a professor of mine. There’s been a little accident and I think you may have lost your memory. Temporarily, I hope.” He smiled warmly and prayed he was accurate. Seventy percent of the time, victims of this type of accident did regain their memories eventually. It could be within minutes or it could take years.

“Severus Snape? That’s an odd name, isn’t it?” Snape asked.

“I haven’t heard of too many other people with that name, but then again there aren’t any other people quite like you so it suits you well.”

“We’re friends, then?” Harry wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. For simplicity’s sake, he nodded.

“And the other man? Is he also my friend?”

“I don’t believe the two of you ever met. His name is Sherlock Holmes. He’s the one that found you and brought you here.”

“Oh. Why did he bring me to you? Are you a doctor?”

“Er…no. It’s a long story but he thought I would know how to help you.” Thinking of the scene he had observed on the phone, he added, “He thought you would be safer here.”

“Am I in danger?” Snape seemed calm for a man with complete amnesia.

“I don’t honestly know. But it’s possible. I promise I’ll protect you if you are. That’s my job,” Harry said to reassure him. “I’m an Auror.”

Severus sat quietly for a few moments.

“I need your facilities,” Severus finally said and tried to stand up. He wobbled a bit on his feet and Harry grabbed his arm to steady him. “I’m not an invalid, Harry,” he said with a familiar snark to his voice. He shook Harry’s arm off.

Harry laughed. It was good to hear a little of the old Snape returning. “Of course not,” Harry replied. “The bathroom’s through there.” Harry pointed to the master bath. He waved his wand to turn the lights on for Snape and hoped he’d actually picked up his towels that morning.

His hopes on that were dashed when he heard Snape gripe, “Can’t you afford house elves?” Snape then turned around in the doorway. He looked at Harry in confusion.

“What are house elves?” he asked, sounding unsure.

“I’ll explain later,” Harry answered. Snape nodded and closed the door. Harry smiled. It was a good sign that Severus had a sudden memory like that, even if it hadn’t stuck.

It was a long few minutes as Harry waited. Sherlock had yelled up that the tea was ready for them. Finally Snape walked out, still slightly unsteady on his feet. It looked as if he’d splashed water on his face.

“You can shower later if you’d like. Maybe you’d like something to eat or some tea?” Seeing Snape nod, he offered, “Up here or would you like to come downstairs?”

“I think I’ve been lying about too long. I’ll join you.”

 

* * * * *

 

Sherlock had managed a half decent tea. Harry didn’t even know he had three matching tea cups and saucers. Perhaps Harry wasn’t the only one that had changed. He sat Snape down at one end of the table and Sherlock at the other. Harry dug around for some biscuits he thought were in the same cabinet as his glassware. They were tucked away on an upper shelf he rarely used. He did a freshening charm on them as he was sure they were stale.

“It’s all I have at the moment. I’ll go to the market later and pick up some real food.” They all began to quietly sip their tea and eat. Harry was trying to put his confused thoughts into some semblance of order. He assumed the other two were doing the same. All he could see was Sherlock looking around the room and Severus focused on his drink. He looked down into his own and collected himself.

Harry looked up to see that Sherlock was now studying Snape.

“What is so interesting about my person, Mr. Holmes?” Snape snapped.

“I’ve been trying to figure out where you’ve been. You’re a bit of a mystery.”

“A bit?” Harry snorted.

“And what have you concluded with that apparently keen mind of yours?”

“What makes you think my mind is keen?” Harry could tell that Sherlock was fascinated. Snape was an enigma to him. A mystery to be unraveled.

Snape sat back and studied Sherlock in return. “First, you’re tidy. Not so tidy as to be obsessive, but tidy as in you pay attention to the details of your surroundings. You had the tea impeccably serviced, even if it’s not particularly tasty. You pulled matching cups and saucers to match the sugar bowl. Harry clearly has mismatched china, but you went out of your way to pull the third matched cup from the back of the cupboard but you made sure everything else went back into place. So you are tidy. Or you are trying to impress Harry which may be the likelier scenario as since I have awoken, I have noticed you observing not only me but Harry and his home as well. As Harry has indicated, we do not know each other, I can only assume you are more interested in Harry. It is obvious you have not been here in some time and you are trying to ascertain what he has been up to and how he relates to me. I can almost feel when you have made a conclusion. It’s in your eyes.”

Harry was impressed. Snape hadn’t been around Sherlock for more than a few minutes and he picked all that up. The two of them were peas in a pod.

“I like him,” Sherlock said without answering Snape’s original question. “I do believe, though, we have bigger issues at the moment.” Sherlock was looking past Snape’s shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

“Potter! Are you there?” The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt filled the living room. Harry turned to see his boss’s face in the fireplace. He hadn’t turned it off for the night.

“Great. Now what?” Harry got up to go answer it and both Sherlock and Snape started to rise as well.

“Stay here and stay quiet. I don’t want to have to explain either of your presences at the moment.”

He walked out but he heard Snape ask, “Why? Who is that?”

“That’s his boss,” Sherlock answered.

* * * * *

 

Harry saw the handsome face in the fire looking for him. He bent down into it.

“Hi, Kingsley. What can I do for you?” It was unlike Kingsley to call him at home except in a true emergency.

“Sorry to interrupt your evening of paperwork, Harry. I’m sure you were enjoying it.” Kingsley smirked at him.

“Yes, tragic that.” Harry faked a put-upon look that made Kingsley smile.

“We have a situation. A Wizard was found dead in Hyde Park in a shop that wasn’t there two days ago. Unfortunately, Muggle law enforcement got there before we could and took the body to the morgue and took incriminating photographs of the shop. It was clearly an illegal Wizarding shop and those photographs could prove troublesome.”

“I can imagine. Do you want me on the case? Isn’t Malfoy on duty tonight?”

“He is, but the trouble is the corpse had the Dark Mark.”

“I’m surprised at you, Kingsley. You’ve been the one to insist that Draco should not be judged by his father’s former activities. He’s more than proved himself.”

“I know.” Kingsley sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. “That’s why he’ll be working with you. The problem is, the corpse also had a bottle of your hair on him and we found Polyjuice Potion. I’m afraid you may be in danger. Normally, I would hesitate to have you actively involved, however I think someone may be using Polyjuice to frame you. The more visible we keep you, the better your alibi will stand up if something does happen.”

A shiver went up Harry’s spine. Someone was Polyjuicing as him? It felt like a violation. He'd hated it when his friends had done it for him when he turned 17, but that was for his protection. He suspected this did not have such a benevolent reason behind it. Snape’s warning rang in his ears. He was about to mention Snape when his ears perked up at hearing Sherlock’s name.

“What?”

“I said, have you seen Sherlock Holmes recently?”

“Why?”

“Someone matching his description was seen leaving the scene of the crime. He’s a known user and he’s always been a little obsessed with you, Harry. That’s why I’ve kept you on cases out of the country for the last few years. That’s why we’ve stopped using him on our cases unless we’re desperate.”

“You think Sherlock would want to harm me? I don’t believe it.” He heard a short thud behind him. Harry began to turn to see what it was but the urgency in Kingsley’s voice stopped him.

“I think you need to come to my office, for your own protection, Harry. I’ve opened a direct line to my office.”

Harry hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Snape alone. But something wasn’t right. “I’ll be there, but I’m sure this has nothing to do with Sherlock Holmes.”

He stood to put his Auror robes on. He was glad he didn’t need to rebuckle his boots. He had never taken them off. He knew the other men would know he was leaving and since he didn’t want Kingsley to know about either of them, he chose not to say anything directly. Instead, he started to step into the fireplace. He’d gotten one foot and a part of his arm in when a large hand clamped over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him away from the fireplace. He could feel Kingsley tugging at him from the other side.

He struggled with the larger body. He didn’t want to be splinched which was a distinct possibility even though that usually only occurred with Apparating. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw another prone body lying on the floor in the kitchen.

 _Shit. Could Kingsley be right? Or was this Snape?_ Whoever it was had a far firmer grip on him then Kingsley. There was no way Kingsley could pull him through in one piece. Most likely, Harry would lose a leg, instead. Feeling a bit bad about it, he pulled his leg back and hit Kingsley square in the chest, forcing him to let Harry go. The force of it knocked Harry back into his own living room and on top of his attacker.

Scrambling to get back on his feet, he had almost spun himself around when a long leg swiped underneath him knocking him back to the floor. Before he knew it, he was flat on his back, pinned down, looking up into Sherlock’s blue-grey eyes.


	6. Not Who You Think I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Snape's out of the bag.

_Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\-----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 5 - Not Who You Think I Am_

A few moments of sheer panic set in as Harry caught his breath. Sherlock looked calm and composed straddled over Harry’s waist. That is until a large object crashed into his head and knocked him over. Snape had apparently woken up and threw a large book at Sherlock, hitting him square in the face.

Harry took the moment to scramble out from under him and drew his wand out before knocking Sherlock into the wall with his body.

“OOF!” Sherlock slid down the wall. By then Snape had run over and grabbed him and threw him face down onto the floor, pulling his arms behind him.

Harry thrust his wand into Sherlock’s face to demand answers.

“That wasn’t Shacklebolt! Not Shacklebolt!” Sherlock yelled between heavy breaths.

“What?!” Harry asked. Sherlock turned his face up towards Harry and tried to see Severus who was sitting on his back.

“Accent was wrong. Close, but not quite right. Someone has obviously studied him.” Harry pulled back and thought a moment. He knew something hadn’t been right, but he couldn’t place it.

“Let him up,” Harry finally said.

“What?” Severus asked in an amazed tone. “This cretin jumped you. He knocked me out. That’s not the sign of the good guy.” He did not let Sherlock up, instead he pulled his arms back harder.

Sherlock grimaced. “I knew you’d try to stop me, that’s why. I didn’t have time to explain. If I’d yelled, he’d have just come through the Floo at you.”

“So why didn’t he just do that anyway?” Harry wondered.

Sherlock had a ready answer, “I assume he didn’t know who was here. You might have had company. He couldn’t take that chance.” He looked up at Harry as if waiting for the logic to sink in. “You might want to shut your Floo down now.” Sherlock suggested through a grunt of pain.

“Right.” Harry turned and waved his wand to shut it down. “Snape, you can let him up.”

“Why do you call me Snape?” the man asked as he reluctantly got off of Sherlock.

Harry looked at him confused at the change in subject.

Severus pointed at Sherlock. “You call him by his first name, but you don’t call me by my first name. Do I not like being called Severus?”

The absurdity of that observation at that moment made Harry laugh. “I guess because you always called me Potter,” Harry said for lack of a better reason.

“Would you prefer that?”

“No, not really. I like being Harry better. Potter reminds me too much of my father.”

Snape squinted as if something was occurring to him but then he shook his head.

“Then, I’d prefer if you called me Severus.”

“Lovely then,” Sherlock interrupted. “Now that we’re all on a first name basis, perhaps we could talk about who that really was and what they want with Harry.”

Harry turned his wand on Sherlock again. “Just to be sure – what movie did we watch on Boxing Day 2008?”

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. “I think it was that Indiana Jones movie with the utterly ridiculous refrigerator scene. Plus, I’ve been here well over the allotted time for Polyjuice.”

Harry lowered his wand. “You were alone for a long time in the kitchen getting tea. I mean, I had a professor who managed to go all year Polyjuiced as someone else and no one caught him until he almost did me in.”

“What kind of ridiculous school would not figure that out?” Severus asked.

“Ours, actually. And does that mean you know what Polyjuice Potion is?”

“Yes. Wait…it’s something that makes you look like someone else, right. How is that possible?” Severus went and sat on the couch.

“Is something coming back to you?” Harry asked, sitting down next to him.

“Magic. I remember magic. It’s real.” Severus was rubbing his head as if he was in pain.

“That’s right. You and I are Wizards, Severus.”

“But not him?” he thumbed at Sherlock.

“Uh, no. Sherlock is a Muggle,” Harry said. Seeing the question on Severus’ face, he explained, “A non-magic person.”

“Good,” Severus muttered.

“What does that mean?” Sherlock asked, clearly irritated. He was rubbing his left shoulder.

“Nothing. I meant that it’s good that I’m remembering,” Severus said with a slight hint of a smile. Harry knew he did not mean that. He also knew that Sherlock knew that. Harry suspected the two of them together were going to be a handful.

“Ok. I’d better go find the real Shacklebolt and figure out what’s going on. Severus, why don’t you stay here and rest up a bit. There’s some leftover curry in the refrigerator if you want it. I’ll get some fresh towels if you want to shower. I’ll also pull out some clean clothes for you.”

Severus eyed Harry’s much smaller stature. “Perhaps, I should borrow Sherlock’s clothes. He seems more my size.”

“His clothes aren’t here and besides, I don’t think he fancies that idea.” Sure enough when they both looked up, Sherlock had a look of horror on his face. Harry remembered clearly that Sherlock didn’t share well. That did, of course, beg the question, even if he wasn’t Polyjuiced, could Sherlock still be trouble? Whoever the Kingsley impersonator was, he wasn’t wrong about why Kingsley had begun sending Harry overseas. Sherlock took big risks when it came to Harry. He didn’t think clearly when Harry was in danger. He risked himself and he risked others. It was the only way Harry knew how much the man had cared for him as he certainly never spoke endearments of any sort. But it also got in the way of his cases.

That wasn’t the whole story of course. Harry shared much of the blame as well. He’d come to rely on Sherlock too much in his own investigations. It made Harry a weaker Auror than he should have been. Than he was now. One of the reasons Kingsley sent him overseas was to regain his confidence. Having Sherlock constantly by his side made Harry doubt his own abilities. Even now he could feel some of that doubt starting to creep back in. He wouldn’t allow it this time. He was the one in danger. He’d make the big decisions.

“I can transfigure some of mine to fit you for now,” Harry said.

“I don’t fancy sitting around here alone.” Severus complained.

“Sorry, Severus. There’s nothing for it. The short story is, you’re considered dead. It would be difficult at this point to explain why you’re not.” Severus moved to interrupt Harry.

Harry put up a hand to stall him. “I promise I will explain when I get back. Maybe you could read that book you threw earlier. It’s the History of Magic. You’ll find both of us listed in it. It’s a place to start. Help yourself to any other books as well. You’ll find most of them in my study.” Harry waved to a room that was located near the front door.

“What’s he going to do?” Severus asked.

Sherlock looked at the two of them. “I believe I’m going back to the shop and look around a bit. Unless you want me to go to the Ministry with you, Harry?”

Harry shook his head. “No, go back. See what you can learn. Maybe you can see if any Muggles remember the shop at all. I would bet galleons to treacle tarts that only Wizards can see it.”

“But, isn’t he a Muggle?” Severus asked. “Why can he see it?”

“He’s an exception,” Harry offered. “He always has been.”

Severus scowled.

* * * * *

 

Harry Apparated near the Ministry and went into his office. From there he contacted Kingsley via his Patronus and asked for him to reply via the same. No one could impersonate someone’s Patronus. It was too bad so few people could actually conjure them.

It wasn’t long before his boss arrived. Harry informed him of the fire-call.

“Someone was impersonating me? Trying to lure you here?” Kingsley looked gravely concerned.

“I’m guessing the Floo would have actually taken me somewhere else. I tried to backtrace the fire-call, but it was charmed against traces. Since that’s not possible from the Ministry, it had to have originated from somewhere else. They made it look like your office, sir. At least the part that I could see.”

“That’s a pretty elaborate attempt to get to you. I’m more worried about whether there’s any truth to this body having your hair on it. And, where did they get my hair since well…” Kingsley pointed to his rather bald head. The sudden image of where Kingsley’s hair had come from stopped Harry short. He did not need that image of his boss.

“Uh…right. Let’s not go there.” Harry could hear Kingsley trying not to laugh.

“I’m going to summon Draco to see if he can secure the release of that body from the Muggle morgue. I’m also instituting the standard secondary safety procedures of wand identification for all Ministry employees.”

Kingsley summoned Draco using his Patronus. He turned back and poured himself a small glass of water.

Harry fidgeted nervously before admitting, “Sir, you should know that Sherlock Holmes found the body.”

“Holmes, huh?” He looked at Harry suspiciously. “Why would you know that? I thought you no longer spoke to him.”

“I haven’t, in many years. But when he found the body – it wasn’t alone. There was another body. One that was still alive. As soon as he realized the man was a Wizard, he contacted me.”

“I see. I’m not going to ask how Sherlock knew how to find you. You know my feelings on that. Instead I’m going to ask - where is this person now?

“Um…he’s at my place, recovering,” Harry said, cringing. It was a complete violation of procedure. It probably meant another month of desk duty.

Kingsley pursed his lips. “Instead of St. Mungos?” The reprimand could be clearly heard. Kingsley took another sip.

“Well – the patient is Severus Snape.”

Harry couldn’t remember Kingsley ever having done an actual spit-take before.


	7. Investigations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting the facts - right or wrong.

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 6 – Investigations_

Harry was starting to get weary. He’d been up all day doing tedious paperwork after the Memorial breakfast and it was almost 22:00. Or ‘10:00 pm for us normal people’ as Rose would insist when she was annoyed with Harry for using military time. The thrill of an actual investigation should have invigorated him, but the emotional trial of seeing not one but two men from his past as well as having nearly been kidnapped (and he could admit to himself that that was what had occurred) was getting to him.

Kingsley asked for a few minutes to talk to Draco before Harry joined them. Harry used the time to order some new clothes for Severus from Madam Malkins Online. He was sure the man would like to have some things of his own and the ready-to-wear line could be delivered the next day.

Now that the magical world had figured out how to protect Muggle electronics from their magic, they had quickly caught up to Muggles in some areas. Harry appreciated he could now shop for his magical accessories without ever stepping foot in Diagon Alley. That was part of what seemed so odd about an irregular Wizarding shop. They had to be selling illicit dark artifacts because most legitimate products could be bought online.

After he finished his order, he went to the Wizarding Morgue where Draco and Kingsley were waiting.

“Hey, Scarhead,” Draco greeted him. He was as snippy as usual, but he was a surprisingly good Auror.

“Ferret,” Harry answered back, non-committally. They weren’t friends by any means, but they were co-workers and got along generally well. The name-calling was more affectionate than insulting anymore. At least if they did it to each other, no one else would as it wouldn’t have the same impact.

“Any problems?” Harry asked.

“Other than removing a dead body from under the noses of Muggles and erasing all their records?” Draco asked in a slightly snide tone.

“Yes, other than that,” Harry answered, equally sarcastic.

“No. It went smooth as a baby crup’s…”

“Draco," Kingsley interrupted. “Do you recognize him? Or you, Harry?” Kingsley indicated the man on the table. “It looks as if he had a Dark Mark but attempted to have it removed.” He pointed to the obvious scar tissue that showed just beneath the sleeve.

Draco shook his head. Harry squinted to look closer. He went through all the Death Eaters they still hadn’t caught but, even imagining them twenty years older, he couldn’t place the face.

“Sorry. He doesn’t look familiar.” Harry said.

“There were far more Death Eaters than any of us knew about. As I’ve mentioned previously, my father told me that Voldemort kept pockets of them secreted from each other. That way if anyone was captured, they’d only be able to give away their fellow cell members,” Draco reminded them.

“Okay. I expected that,” Kingsley replied. “I’m disappointed, of course. I had hoped we had already routed out most of the cells.”

“Maybe he’s just a rogue? Perhaps his cell has already been discovered?” Harry asked.

Kingsley shook his head. “No. I would have recognized him then. I’ve had access to all the Pensieve memories of the captured Death Eaters and this man didn’t appear in any of their memories. Ah well, the coroner’s on his way. Maybe he’ll be able to give us more information. We’ll get his report in the morning.”

“Right,” Harry answered. He hated that Death Eaters still seemed to appear once in a while. It wasn’t anything like the first few years after the war, but why did they continue after so much time had passed? He sincerely hoped they weren’t working on yet another method of bringing Voldemort back. He didn’t want to contemplate the possibility, so he focused on the tangible. “Did you find a bottle like the other Kingsley described?” he asked.

“I _Accio’d_ it from his robes.” Kingsley’s held up a small vial that was filled with short black hair that could easily have been Harry’s. It could have also belonged to Viktor Krum for that matter.

“I’ll have them analyze it. If it is yours, we’ll date match it. It might take a couple of days to get the results. The labs are still behind from the Flemington case,” Kingsley said.

“You’re sure your barber uses _Evanesco_ on your clippings, right?” Draco asked Harry.

“I only use the Ministry barber per regulations, Draco.” Harry answered. He knew they had to ask but he’d never let anyone else cut his hair.

“Alright then. I sent some other Aurors to lock down the scene, but the shop is back to its usual dilapidated status and is unoccupied so the culprits have already cleaned up after themselves. Go home. Get some sleep.” Kingsley ordered.

Harry wondered if the shop had been gone before Sherlock had gotten there or, the little niggling voice in the back of his head wondered, if he was the one that got rid of it. He shook his head. Paranoia was setting in. Sherlock may be immune to most charms and spells, but he was no Wizard.

Draco left. Kingsley held Harry back. “I’m not happy about letting Snape stay with you, but I’m letting it go for now. We’ll need to tell the team eventually but I want to talk to him first. I’ll come to your place at 9:45 exactly. Any earlier or later, it won’t be me. Got it?”

Harry nodded. “Guess I don’t need to be in at 8:00, sir?” he asked with a smile.

“I think your morning will be full enough. Not to mention your evening.”

 

* * * * *

 

Tired as he was, Harry managed to stop at a 24-hour Wizarding market on the way home. In a speedy fifteen minute spin, he picked up the basics: eggs, milk and bread along with assorted snacks and drinks. Much to his disgust, he also picked up some pre-made meals even though he really did prefer his own cooking. He also picked up some toiletries for his houseguest: toothbrush, deodorant, comb and other sundry items.

Red-eyed, he checked out with a nod to the clerk who seemed thrilled that the famous Harry Potter was in her store. She must be new. He patiently agreed to sign an autograph and hoped his penchant for _Milkybars_ and _HobNobs_ weren’t plastered in _Witch Weekly_. He was sure he saw her Flittering as he walked out the door. Having much of his life shared with the public against his wishes, he didn’t understand the need for the general population to post their everyday activities on the Wizarding Web. Really, why would anyone care that 'Uncle Jerriendo just drank some coffee' or 'Cousin Helga ran b4 work again'?

It also reminded him of the other reason most of his cases were out of the country now. It was hard to do undercover work when everyone recognized you. It was usually why he stopped at Muggle markets, but wearing his Auror Robes in one was not a good idea and he was too tired to transfigure them. The risk of accidentally transfiguring them into a red dress was pretty high.

He walked into his place and everything seemed quiet. He managed to set the bags on the table and started putting things away. Severus stepped into the kitchen.

“Do you need assistance?” His deep voice startled Harry.

“Uh, sure. If you want to put the refrigerated things away, that would be great.” Harry was surprised at the offer. He noticed that Severus had dressed in the clothes Harry had left for him. He was in dark blue jeans and a maroon jumper. The color looked nice on him. It gave his sallow coloring a bit of warmth. He had wondered if the man would wear them, but other than jeans and sweats, Harry didn’t keep much else on hand other than very formal clothing. Oddly, Harry noticed Severus’ feet were bare. They were quite long and narrow. He wondered why he hadn’t put the socks on.

Severus began to help him unbag the groceries. He was meticulously separating the frozen items from the refrigerated items from the shelf items in three neat piles. They were silent for a few minutes. Severus picked up one of the ready-made meals – Swedish Meatballs - and frowned.

Harry blushed before picking up a couple of tins of fruit. “Sorry. I’m not crazy about them either, but I wanted to be sure you had food since I’ll be busy with the case tomorrow. I usually prefer cooking from fresh ingredients but didn’t have the patience to shop for that tonight.”

Severus put the boxes away in the freezer. Harry could feel the man’s eyes on his back as he started stacking the tins in the cupboard.

“Why are you doing this?” Severus asked softly. Harry spun around to look at him but in his haste, his hand hit one of the tins and it started to wobble and fall out. Severus jumped forward and tried to catch it, but he was a bit too slow. The tin hit Harry on the head. “Ow!” Harry began rubbing his head. Severus bent down and picked the can off the floor. He reached over Harry’s head to put it back in the cupboard. Harry felt the heat off his body as Severus leaned over him. He couldn’t remember ever standing this close to the man before. It felt...odd. Harry could smell his own soap and shampoo on him. He looked up at Severus’ face. His hair seemed soft and framed his face in waves.

“Why are you helping me?” Severus looked down into Harry’s face as if seeking something. Harry shifted nervously. Severus moved Harry’s hand aside from his head and ran his fingers through his hair where the tin had hit him.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Severus commented. He took a step back. “I’ve been reading about you. About us really. You were a war hero.”

“So were you,” Harry added.

“History doesn’t seem to view me quite so one-sided. I get the feeling I did some fairly nasty things during my time as a spy. The author doesn’t seem to believe it was all part of my mission.” Severus frowned.

“The author didn’t know you.” Harry had had this argument many times over the years as he fought for Snape’s posthumous exoneration.

“And you did, Harry?” Severus asked. “Did you know the entire time that I was on your side of the war?”

“Um…well…” Harry wasn’t sure how to answer that.

Severus nodded in understanding. “No. I know you didn’t. You couldn’t have. You were eleven when they brought you into this world and told you your mission. How anyone could do that to a child is beyond me. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been allowed to do anything but treat you like the enemy.”

“Well, yeah. You had to. I understand.”

“I can’t quite remember what I did, but I have the sense I didn’t treat you well and for that I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, really.” Harry was moved by his gesture even if Severus didn’t understand exactly what he was apologizing for.

“And yet, you fought for me after I died. I was absolved of all crimes. Why would you do that? What did it matter since I was dead?”

“It was the right thing to do. It mattered to me,” Harry replied earnestly.

Severus turned away. “Would you like some tea?” Severus had shifted gears again. No matter. Harry was in no mood to have a heart to heart. He thought tea sounded lovely, but he wanted to shower first. It had been a long and exhausting day. He felt the need to wash it off. He took a surreptitious sniff and realized he smelled bad as well. Great. The man had to stand that close to him just then. Nice impression that must have left.

‘Why do I care what he thinks about the way I smell?’ he suddenly thought. ‘I must be exhausted. I’m going mental.’

“Yeah, it sounds good. I think I’ll go up and take a quick shower first,” Harry said.

* * * * *

 

The warm water flowing over Harry’s sore and stiff body felt wonderful. He knew he couldn’t linger for more than a few minutes before he should return to Severus.

Severus…what an odd way for him to think about the man. He’d never been so nice before. Harry was sure once his memories returned, he’d be back to his usual loathing of Harry, so he decided to enjoy the moments he got. Part of him missed the snarky wit, but at least it wasn’t aimed at him.

He got out and dried himself off. His hair was still wet and he was considering whether to dry it or not. He could hear some conversation downstairs so he wondered if Sherlock had come back. He decided to let his hair go so he could see what was happening. At this hour, he should just dress for bed. Normally he’d wear his boxers, but given his company, he thought he should at least put on some sweat pants.

He was bent over the middle drawer pulling them out when the door flew open. He jumped at the sound and spun around to see Sherlock walking into the room.

“…you can’t go in there….” Severus yelled and then suddenly went quiet. Harry froze. He was stark naked and Severus stood in the doorway gaping at him. The only thing that moved was the small Wizarding Snitch tattoo that buzzed angrily around Harry’s chest in reaction to his surprise and then flew over his shoulder and down his back. It was hovering just under his left buttock as if it wanted to hide.

Sherlock looked up from his phone, nonchalantly. “Harry, the store is gone, but I learned some really interesting things from the neighbors.”

“Sherlock – I’m getting dressed!” He quickly grabbed the sweatpants from the drawer and covered his groin.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. Anyway…”

“Get out!”

“Don’t you want to…”

“Get out!” Harry shrieked, amazed his voice could get that high. He was waving one arm frantically as if to show Sherlock where the door was.

“All right, fine. I don’t see what you’re so upset about.” Sherlock turned and walked calmly by a still stunned Severus who had turned as red as his jumper.

Harry stared at Severus and tilted his head at him in expectation. Severus looked away and squeaked, “Tea’s ready,” and quickly shut the door.

* * * * *

 

After Harry pulled himself together with sweatpants and a “Flaming Phoenix” tee-shirt, he mustered up his dignity and went downstairs. Severus and Sherlock were in the living room on either end of the couch. Harry thought about taking the chair, but realized he’d probably need to see what Sherlock brought so he sat between them.

Severus handed him a cup and poured the tea for him. Harry watched Severus’ fingers as he handled the china so delicately. They didn’t seem all that much different than in his school boy days. As much as he'd hated potions, he had enjoyed watching Snape make them. Or rather his hands. There was an elegance to them. Severus handed the cup to Harry and Harry took it from, lightly brushing their hands together. Harry smiled at Severus to indicate his appreciation.

He then turned to Sherlock. “So what was so important that you had to barge in here in the middle of the night. You said the shop was gone. The Aurors had already discovered that. I was hoping you had made it there before that.”

“Obviously after I found it today, some Wizarding someone wanted it gone. And you were right – none of the Muggles even realized it had been there. What is interesting, though, is that some of them had noticed an unusual number of new people in the area during the last few days. A couple of them thought some kind of comic convention was in town since so many people were in costume.”

Severus leaned forward. “So the proprietors were smart enough to hide the building, but the customers weren’t smart enough to conceal themselves? That seems highly unintelligent.”

Harry nodded. “So whatever services were being provided catered to Wizards that aren’t known for their intelligence. It could be drugs or addictive potions for the black market. Dark artifacts tend to bring slightly more intelligent and cautious buyers.”

“That might explain why I was there,” Severus said.

Harry turned back to Severus. “You think you were selling illegal potions?”

“Perhaps I was making them.” Harry looked at him incredulously. Sherlock just looked contemplative.

“Harry, I have no memory of who I am or what I was doing. Given what I’ve learned about myself this evening, it is possible. I was one of the world’s best potion makers.”

“You were dead!”

“Obviously not. Who knows what I’ve been doing lately? Why haven’t I been seen in society for twenty years? I doubt I was supporting myself through legitimate means. You need to consider it.”

Harry argued back, “Well, as intriguing as that theory is, it could still have been a place to trade dark artifacts or other illegal commodities.”

“We should consider it,” Sherlock said. Harry glared at him. “Not that Snape did it, although that is a possibility that, as an Auror, Harry, you cannot overlook, but that it was for illegal potions. What is the current status of Polyjuice Potion in Wizarding law?”

“All forms of it became restricted substances in 2013, as I’m sure you well know, Sherlock.”

“Right, because I used to use it freely before that law passed. Then I had to get a special dispensation from Kingsley to use it afterwards for my investigations with him. I have to tell you that my reputation for clever disguises took a hit when it became restricted. It was a good thing I had stocked up,” Sherlock said with a hint of a smirk.

Harry looked at him in shock. “It’s addictive! I hope you’re not still using it.”

Sherlock shook his head. “I weaned myself off of it a few years ago. Tough, but I managed. Kingsley wouldn’t tolerate me otherwise. Did you know that’s why he cut off all communication between me and the Wizarding World? He basically set up a ‘Don’t call us, we’ll call you’ kind of deal. That’s why I had to come to you. I had no other way to contact him directly. I find it frustrating that he lacks confidence in my ability to stay off of it.”

Severus sat up straighter. “Addictive? There shouldn’t be anything addictive in it.”

“Right. You wouldn’t know. Around 2003, a new form of Polyjuice Potion was developed that lasted six hours unless you took the antidote. Separately, they weren’t highly addictive unless you took either of them frequently and over a prolonged period of time. However, if you took them together, it became a potently addictive drug. Users became quite euphoric and their physical features had a tendency to morph in strange ways. A large subculture formed around it. People who didn’t know, or didn’t care, how bad it was for them congregated in underground clubs to share their experiences. St. Mungos has had an influx of addicts attempting to recover from it over the last ten years.”

“That’s ludicrous. What numbskull would poison their body that way?” He glared at Sherlock.

“I think that proves you were probably not involved in the manufacturing of it,” Harry said.

“If you’re finished judging me, let’s get back to the facts, shall we?” Sherlock suggested as he looked dismissively at Severus. He stood up and paced the room. “Some of the Muggles thought the costumed people were quite funny and took photographs or recordings of the _‘convention guests_ ’. I found them posted on the internet. I thought one in particular should interest you.”

He handed Harry the _iPhone_ and a familiar face peered back at him. It was a short recording of a young woman walking with several other people her age in Hyde Park right in front of where the store would have been. It was daylight.

“Rose?”


	8. A Rose by Any Other Name

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\-----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 7 – A Rose by Any Other Name_

Harry was taken aback. There was a video of Rose at the very location where Snape was found.

“When was this posted?”

“This afternoon.”

“Impossible. She was shopping with Ron all day.”

Snape held his hand out for the phone and Harry handed it to him. He looked at it somewhat confused until it dawned on Harry that Snape wouldn’t know how to use it. Harry leaned across him, pressed the rewind button on the screen and restarted the video.

“Who is this?” Severus asked.

Sherlock pointed to the grandfather clock where Rose’s face pointed to ‘home.’ Harry breathed a sigh of relief at that.

“One of his Weasley family members. As I recall, Rose is Harry’s niece,” Sherlock explained to Severus.

“So one of two things are possible,” Severus began. “Either this is yet another person using Polyjuice…”

Sherlock nodded and waited for Severus to continue...

“Or she was not with…” Severus hesitated.

“…Ron all day,” Harry finished when he realized Severus didn’t remember Ron’s name.

“Perhaps you should contact him?” Severus suggested.

Harry took a deep breath and looked at the real clock. It was near midnight. He looked at the Weasley clock again. It indicated they were all home.

“It’s late. They’re safe for now. The wards at Weasley Grange are formidable. I’ll visit them in the morning after I’m done with Kingsley. It might not even be related at all.”

Both Sherlock and Snape stared at him.

“But…most likely she, at least, saw or heard something while she was there.” Harry sat gazing at the smartphone in Sherlock’s hands.

“Can I borrow that?” Seeing the look of panic on his face, Harry explained,

“So I can show Ron and Hermione tomorrow?” Sherlock’s face didn’t waver. Of course not. Sherlock never could bear to be separated from his toys.

“Nevermind,” Harry said.

“I’ll have one dropped off for you tomorrow. I’ll load the files in,” Sherlock offered instead.

“You’re going to buy me a phone by tomorrow morning?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“I never said I’d buy it for you. I’m going to borrow one.” Sherlock spun and swiftly left without saying goodnight.

Harry snorted quietly and shook his head. ‘And how will John feel about that?’ he thought, knowing exactly who Sherlock planned to borrow it from.

“Polite fellow, isn’t he?” Snape observed.

Suddenly, Harry lost it. Everything came out in a hysterical bout of laughter. He couldn’t stop it. Tears were streaming down his face and he held his stomach. Severus just watched him and never even changed expression which just made Harry laugh harder.

After a few minutes, Harry finally got himself under control.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me,” Harry wiped his eyes dry.

“You should get some rest, Harry. I think tomorrow will be a long day.”

“Right. You can stay in Hugo’s room if you’d like,” Harry winced thinking that he’d have to figure out something more long term for Severus or cancel Saturday’s movie night. At least that room was clean. Harry always made sure to clean everything right after the kids left since he often didn’t know if he’d be back home before the next movie night.

“Hugo?” Severus looked up at the clock and then nodded. “Another Weasley. Rather large family, aren’t they?”

Looking up at their all of their faces, sans Fred, and their children, Harry answered, “That’s an understatement.”

He stood up and held his hand out to Severus without thinking. It wasn’t until Severus actually took it, that he realized how odd it was. Severus’ hand was cool to the touch and softer than he'd imagined it would be after his years of brewing. Compared to his own calloused hands, they seemed rather delicate.

He led the way to what he now identified as Hugo’s room which was the second room on the left, just before Harry’s. Teddy stayed there as well but Hugo was the more frequent guest. It was a typical boy’s room done in browns and blues. It was nothing extravagant. Hugo and Teddy had put up a few posters of their favorite bands and sports teams. Harry had used most of Sirius’ old furniture in the room but had had it refinished so that it all matched. He'd also put in a new twin bed with a trundle.

Harry waved his wand and expanded the bed so it was longer and wider. “You’re taller than Hugo so I thought this might make it more comfortable,” Harry explained.

“It won’t shrink up on me overnight, will it?” Severus asked, eyeing the bed dubiously.

Harry chuckled. ‘No, the charm lasts twenty-four hours. Remind me tomorrow night to do it again.”

“Or, perhaps you could show me how to do it?” Severus asked.

Suddenly a thought occurred to Harry. “Did you find a wand in your robes?”

“I found nothing of the sort,” Severus answered.

“Right. I’ll see if I can get one for you tomorrow so you can start practicing.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “Has anything come back to you?” Harry leaned up against the doorjamb and waited for Severus to answer.

“I don’t wish to bore you with the details but I believe some of my knowledge is coming back. I keep thinking about the properties of powdered asphodel and wormwood.”

“That sounds so familiar.” Harry struggled with the terms. He knew that combination. Or at least he knew that he had known it at one time. He just couldn't remember why he should know it. It was so close he could almost taste it but it eluded him. Gah – he was so tired he couldn’t think straight. Maybe after a good night’s rest, he’d remember it.

“I haven’t, however, remembered anything personal,” Severus finished.

“Okay. I think you will, eventually,” Harry reassured him. “Well then, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry walked back to his room but realized Severus had watched him until he shut the door. For the first time in many years, he locked it. Not that he didn’t trust Snape, but his Auror senses were tingling.

Or, something was tingling. He wasn’t sure what.

* * * * *

 

That night he dreamt of Sherlock.

 _Their first time…how cautious Sherlock was…how carefully he prepared Harry as if studying Harry’s every reaction and dissecting it…Pulling Sherlock from the Thames during their first mission, holding him close to keep him warm…a dinner spent arguing over investigation tactics….Seeing Sherlock take Harry’s prick into his own mouth the first time and analyzing the taste. ..YOU HAD GARLIC TODAY...Watching the clock on another missed date… Saying I love you and getting no response…Kingsley screaming at the two of them for focusing on each other and not on their cases… Seeing Sherlock’s face as he raced into the burning building…Why was he there?…Vincent Crabbe slicing Harry’s arms and legs as he laughed…three children hanging by their feet from the ceiling…the knife getting closer to his groin…Harry struggling to reach the wand in Crabbe’s back pocket…a loud explosion rocking the building…the surprise he felt when he saw Sherlock cut him down and attempt to carry him out…THE KIDS – GET THE KIDS! ..Harry struggling against Sherlock to run back in to save the hostages…Sherlock trying to hold him back…running into searing flames that were just starting to lick the long hair of the oldest girl…cutting them down with Crabbe’s wand and slapping the Portkey on them…being pulled away by an enraged Crabbe and scuffling on the floor…the gunshot that rang out as Sherlock killed the man….Feeling Sherlock push into him for the last time, so intense, so needy…how his heart broke knowing he would have to end it…Desperate kisses, tongues fighting for dominance...Mine…Mine…Mine!!_

 _Sherlock’s face hovering over his own, panting heavily, staring intently…morphing into Severus’ pale countenance– back and forth – every thrust in became Severus, every pull out became Sherlock…deep penetrating eyes, alternating black and blue-grey, seared into Harry’s soul and long fingers grasping his own prick – pulling, twisting…COME FOR ME….YOU’RE MINE….MINE…LOOK AT ME!_

“GAH!” Harry woke up in a sweat. _‘Fuck._ ’ He flopped backwards onto the pillow and caught his breath. He looked at the clock. It was 2:23. He got up to get a drink of water from the bathroom. His bloodshot eyes told him he needed more sleep. He hoped he'd be able to manage it. The dreams had left him feeling shaky. He wondered if he had woken Severus.

Severus. Harry wondered why he'd appeared in his dreams like that. He decided it had been too much for one day, that was all. He splashed a handful of cool water on his face. He hoped it would also cool his prick off since he'd woken up half hard from that last round of images. _‘As bad as a teenage wet dream.’_

He went back to bed, but this time put his headphones on and listened to some light classical music. With the amount of insomnia Harry had experienced, he’d learned that music sometimes helped him sleep.

He lay there and thought back to that last case. It had been early 2009. Kingsley had already stopped assigning Harry to work on the cases with Sherlock. He was a special Muggle envoy assigned to cases at Kingsley’s discretion whenever there was a Muggle/Wizard connection that stumped the Auror’s office. Sherlock could see the magical world with no special assistance. Muggle repelling charms didn’t work on him. It was how he discovered the Wizarding World in the first place. He’d stumbled on a crime scene that Harry was investigating. The victim was a Muggle but the crime bore the markings of being committed by a Death Eater. Renegade Death Eaters were Harry’s specialty and the department was sure this crime was committed by one of them. It was their first joint case.

Kingsley came to realize there were times a Muggle liaison might be useful. Many crimes interconnected the Muggle and the magical worlds and that’s when he would bring Sherlock in. Until Sherlock and Harry became involved. Their relationship compromised their cases and Harry knew it even if Sherlock denied it. Sherlock could never see when his heart overruled his mind because he never acknowledged he had one.

Kingsley couldn’t afford not to use Sherlock, so he reassigned Harry to work strictly magical crimes. Sherlock continued to involve himself in Harry’s cases at home. Harry had never even noticed how much he'd started to doubt his own abilities because he'd always had Sherlock to correct him if he headed down the wrong path. He hadn’t really noticed how much their relationship interfered with his work. That was, until the last case, when Sherlock got overly involved in a sensitive sting operation. Sherlock didn’t trust Harry to be able to deal with it on his own and he followed him. Harry had had a plan. It almost worked except Sherlock gave him away and got Harry captured by Vincent Crabbe. The sadistic man not only dabbled in illegal goods but enjoyed playing with Muggle knives on children, and then, on Harry. Sherlock insisted on attempting a rescue that ended up almost killing the kids. He managed to kill Vincent as well, but the resulting fire destroyed the warehouse and any clues that would have led back to the suppliers.

Harry knew then that Sherlock wasn’t good for him. Sherlock treated him like a prized possession but didn’t respect him as a fellow investigator. So Harry left and Kingsley began assigning him to overseas missions. It was the best thing that could have happened to his career, even if it wrecked his personal life.

Did he still want Sherlock? No. Seeing him again brought back memories and a certain longing, but he knew Sherlock would not have changed enough to be what Harry wanted. He wanted an intelligent partner, that much was certain. As he had said to Hermione earlier, he always found intelligence rather sexy. But he wanted an equal. He wanted someone that could actually show he cared for him. He didn’t need wine and roses, but he needed to know his partner respected him.

He snorted to himself – yeah that was as unlikely as Snape telling him he was a great potions student.

He closed his eyes and drifted off.


	9. It's in the Details

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 8 – It’s in the Details_

The next morning had a chill damp in the air which was unusual this late in May. Harry got up and headed downstairs when the smell of a fry-up hit him.

“What are you making?” Harry asked.

Severus was standing at the stove with his back to Harry. He was already dressed for the day in the same jeans as yesterday, but he must have found one of Teddy’s old shirts in a dresser. It was a black “Morose Malaclaws” tee which fit very snugly across Severus’ wider shoulders. It also rode up on his longer torso showing flashes of pale white skin along his lower back as he stirred whatever was in the pan. Harry realized that maybe he should have dressed as well.

“An omelet – bacon and cheese since you purchased them. Toast is coming up. Do you want coffee?” Severus said in a pleasant voice. Harry had forgotten just how nice the man’s voice was. The deep timbre was very sexy. He had rarely heard it in such neutral circumstances so that too was a nice change.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.” Severus stepped away from the pan a moment and poured Harry a cup and handed it to him. Harry noticed the table was set for two. “What’s the occasion?”

“I was hungry. It’s just as easy to cook for two as one,” Severus said. “I was about to knock on your door. It’s already 8:30 and I assume your _friend_ might show any minute.” He pulled down on the too-short shirt.

“Kingsley’s not coming until 9:45.” Severus looked at him. “Oh, wait…Sherlock, right. He’s not much of an early riser unless there’s a case,” Severus raised one eyebrow at him, “which of course, there is,” Harry finished.

Severus slid the omelet onto a plate and cut it in half. He slid half of it onto another plate and sat it in front of Harry. He then took the toast out, stacked them on a plate and sat down. He took two slices and passed the plate to Harry. Severus pulled down on the shirt before he sat.

Harry slathered butter onto his toast and then took a bite of the omelet. “Wow, this is good,” he praised Severus as he savored the gooey deliciousness before him.

“I added in both Cheddar and Monterrey cheese since you got the mixed package. I added a small assortment of spices as well. I was pleasantly surprised at your spice rack.”

Harry almost laughed his eggs out onto the table. “Ok, sorry. That could be taken the wrong way.”

Severus smirked knowingly. “I meant, for a single man, you have a lot of cooking essentials.”

“I like to cook. It’s a hobby.” Harry took another bite. “I didn’t know you cooked, though.”

“Neither did I really. I assumed since I was a Potions Master that I could find my way around a kitchen. It seems as though I was right.”

“But you cooked this Muggle-style. Hardly any Wizards do that,” Harry noted.

“You do. Half the equipment here looks Muggle-based,” Severus observed.

“Yes, but I was raised by Muggles and had to cook for them. I never learned to cook any other way.” As if Molly would have allowed him to cook when he stayed with them.

It occurred to Harry that this was the _Half-Blood Prince_ and it was possible that he too had to learn to cook that way since his father disliked magic as much as Harry’s relatives did.

Before he could say anything though, Severus asked, “Didn’t you start Hogwarts when you were eleven? When did you cook for Muggles?” Severus looked at him very curiously.

“Before I started at Hogwarts and, then, during the summers afterwards,” Harry explained.

“Your family made an eleven year old cook for them? What were you, their house elf?” He sounded insulted on Harry’s behalf. As happy as that made Harry, he didn’t feel like discussing the Dursleys. He had put them behind him.

“Very nearly. Sounds like you’ve remembered more,” Harry commented to change the subject. “What else do you remember?”

Severus looked annoyed at Harry’s diversionary tactics but acquiesced. “I remember words like _Accio, Alohamora,_ and _Stupefy._ I remember a very dark room. I think I spent a lot of time in it.”

“That’s probably the Potion’s Lab or your office. They were in the dungeons at Hogwarts.”

“Really? I must not have been well-liked.”

“I believe it was your choice. I think most of your potions needed to be kept in cool, dark places. I’m positive it was nothing personal,” Harry said with a smile.

“Very reassuring,” Severus replied before continuing. “Green. I remember a very vivid green.”

“The Slytherin Common Room. You were their Head of House. It was filled with green.”

“That was one of the houses at Hogwarts, right?” Severus asked with a furrowed brow as if concentrating on something. Harry swallowed the last bite of his toast and looked up at him. Severus froze. He was staring into Harry’s eyes.

“What? Do I have toast crumbs or something?” Harry asked, wiping his face with his hands. Just then the bell rang. Harry jumped. Almost no one rang the doorbell and it was too early for Kingsley.

“Looks like Sherlock may have learned some manners after all,” Harry said as he got up.

“It would be nice if he could be housebroken, “ Severus quipped. Harry flashed him a smile.

* * * * *

 

“I forgot you had that bloody spell on the house. I sent John an hour ago to deliver this but he couldn’t find the damned place.” Sherlock stood on the stoop looking agitated.

“Good morning to you, too,” Harry greeted the irritated man. Sherlock thrust the _iPhone_ into Harry’s hands.

“Are you coming in?” Harry asked.

“No. I have something I want to look into. When will you be done at the Weasleys?”

“Not sure. I plan to go over after talking to Kingsley.”

“Okay. Text me on this when you’re done. I’ve preprogrammed my number…” Sherlock grimaced as Harry gave him a blank look, “Really? You’ve never learned how to text?!” Sherlock seemed completely flummoxed when Harry shook his head. “Fine, then just call me,” Sherlock said.

“How terrible. You’ll actually have to hear my voice,” Harry said with a chuckle.

Sherlock turned and left. Harry waved at his back, “Bye, then.”

Harry shut the door and turned to go back inside but Severus was standing right behind him. Harry nearly jumped out of his socks. “Merlin! You scared me.”

“I thought you were an Auror. Shouldn’t you be more aware of your surroundings?” Severus commented before turning to go back inside. He yanked down on the shirt yet again.

“Hardy har…I’m going to go finish that delicious breakfast you made, then I’ll do the dishes and get dressed.”

“Could you make this shirt longer?” Severus asked with an irritated tone to his voice.

“If you’re very good,” Harry teased. Severus glared at him. Harry gave in and waved his wand, disappointed that he wouldn’t see that sexy little stripe of flesh for the rest of the morning. _‘Did I just use sexy and Severus in the same thought?’_ Harry began to wonder what was wrong with him and decided to blame his nocturnal, subconscious mind.

* * * * *

 

Kingsley arrived right on time. Dressed in his formal work attire, he looked every bit the Head of the Auror Office that he was. Harry let him in and his towering figure seemed to dwarf the narrow halls and rooms of Grimmauld Place.

“Severus Snape,” he greeted. “It’s been too long.” He held out his hand. Severus looked at Harry but then held his own hand out and allowed Kingsley to shake it.

“I know you don’t remember me, but we were both members of the Order of the Phoenix,” Kingsley said by way of introduction.

“He’s started to get some of his memories back, Kingsley,” Harry informed his boss.

“That’s wonderful. Which ones?” he asked Harry.

“He remembers…”

“I’m right here,” Severus interrupted the two. Harry blushed. Severus turned to Kingsley and said, “I don’t remember much in the way of personal information yet. I don’t remember you, or this Order or my years at Hogwarts. I have started to remember some of my magical skills like how to brew _Wolfsbane_ , for example.”

“You’ve remembered that?” Harry blurted out.

“It just came to me,” Severus said.

Harry patted his arm. “Not surprising considering how much you made of it for Remus.”

“Remus? Sorry, don’t remember him. Is he also a friend of mine?” Severus asked.

Both Harry and Kingsley shifted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t say _friend_ , exactly,” Harry finally said.

“Ah…I understand.” Severus answered. “Perhaps I should go see him?” Severus sat on the sofa and Harry sat beside him.

“He’s long dead, Severus. He died in the final battle.” Kingsley filled him in as he took a seat on the recliner.

“Oh…It’s weird, isn’t it?” Severus mused.

“What’s weird?” Harry asked.

“You’d think I would at least remember or feel something about a person when I hear about their death if I loved them.”

“LOVED?!” Harry spluttered. Kingsley choked.

Severus gazed at both of them. “Isn’t that what you meant? That we weren’t exactly _friends_? I assumed that was a polite way of saying we were partners.”

“No..no…no..,” Harry said. “You didn’t really like each other. At all.”

“Oh…”

“And you’re straight,” Harry added for good measure.

“I am?” This seemed to confuse Severus. “One would think I’d at least remember that.” He looked at Harry closely. “Are you sure?” Harry blushed. Thinking about Snape’s sexuality made him think about his dreams. This was not the right time for that.

Kingsley coughed again. “Maybe we can settle your sexuality at a later date, Severus. I would like to talk about what we’ve learned since last night.”

“Ok. Did the autopsy come back?”

“Yes. The man was identified as Blumber Toffington. He’s done a number of stints for drug trafficking, robbery, and forgery. As expected, he did not die from the neck wound. That was done after the fact. He actually seems to have died from blunt trauma.”

“Someone hit him?” Severus asked.

“More like someone threw him against the wall and the shelf caught the back of his neck. Death was pretty quick but it looks accidental.”

“That would take a really strong person to do that,” Severus stated.

“Or a really powerful _Stupefy_ or _Expelliarmus_ spell,” Harry corrected him since Severus wasn’t thinking magically. A spell like one of those was the most likely scenario.

“Yes, I agree. Severus, do you have your wand on you?” Kingsley asked.

“No. As I told Harry earlier, I found no wand in my robes.”

“You want to do a _Priori Incantatum_ on his wand,” Harry said to clarify Kingsley’s request. “Do you think he did it?”

“It is a possibility, Harry,” Kingsley said while looking at Severus.

“You’re wrong,” Harry stated.

“Harry, thank you for your noble, but misguided attempt at protecting my honor, but remember we did discuss the possibility last night. I cannot remember what happened. I was there so, for all I know, I did do it.”

Harry huffed but nodded in capitulation. He knew he couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. He also knew the Wizarding World’s habit of jumping to the wrong conclusion when it came to Severus Snape. He’d been guilty of it himself. He just usually jumped in the other direction.

“It is a possibility, that’s all Harry. It’s also likely if he did do it, that it was done in his own defense. Clearly, there was an altercation of some sort prior to his death. It’s also clear there was a third party who went out of his way to make it look as though Severus killed him. They went so far as to call Muggle Law enforcement. That, in and of itself, makes me believe Severus was not the culprit.”

“You’d be the only one at the Ministry who would believe that, sir,” Harry said.

“I agree. So isn’t it lucky I happen to be the Head of the Auror Office and feel no compunction to tell anyone else about Severus’ appearance at the crime scene for now. If you and Sherlock can unravel this before the general public learns that Severus is still alive, I have no qualms about allowing him to stay here.”

Harry felt relieved at Kingsley’s apparent change of heart from the previous evening.

Kingsley looked Severus in the eye. “I owe you too much not to give you the benefit of the doubt for the moment.”

“For the moment. Understood,” Severus answered.

“Why would a Wizard call in Muggle Law Enforcement?” Harry wondered aloud.

“It’s not like they would see anything other than the body in a run-down empty shop.”

“Perhaps it was a delaying tactic?” Severus suggested. “As long as Muggles surrounded the area, the Aurors couldn’t investigate.”

Kingsley nodded. “Very possible and part of what we’ll need to discover. Now, to the second item of importance. The hair in the vial was yours. We are working on dating it. Are you sure you’ve only had your hair cut at the Ministry?”

“Yes. Once every couple of months when I’m in town.”

“And do your house elves destroy your hair when they clean the house?”

Harry paused and bit his lower lip. Kingsley looked pained. “You haven’t ordered your house elves to destroy your hair? Harry, you must do so immediately. If you order them, then they cannot break their oath.”

“I told you that you needed house elves,” Severus muttered. Harry looked at him in annoyance.

“Sir, I don’t have house elves,” Harry sheepishly admitted.

Kingsley’s eyes widened at the statement and then realization hit. “Granger, right?” Kingsley nodded his head in understanding. “Who cleans for you, then? We’ll need to talk to them.”

“No one. I clean my own house,” Harry responded.

“And not very well, I might add,” Severus said.

“Shut it, you.” Harry glared at his house guest.

Kingsley laughed. “The Savior of the Wizarding World cleans his own house? That’s priceless!” After he finished laughing, he asked, “How many guests do you have, other than Severus of course?”

“None.”

“Who’s had access to your house for the last six to twelve months? Who have you had as guests?”

“Ron and Hermione and their kids. Really, all the Weasleys at some point or another. Teddy and Andromeda. Sometimes, Neville and Luna come for dinner. And uh…” Suddenly he remembered a small Quidditch viewing party he had several months ago to watch Ginny’s season opener. There had been a number of former Gryffindor friends and their spouses along with several co-workers from the Ministry. Kingsley had been invited but hadn’t attended. He reminded Kingsley about it. “I did change the wards afterwards, though,” Harry stated.

“At least you did that much. I’ll need all of their names, Harry.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll get it to you this afternoon.”

“I’m meeting Draco later to review security protocols for tonight. Do you want to join us?”

“Actually, I have a lead I’d like to follow-up on if you don’t mind.” He didn’t want to mention Rose’s involvement yet.

“If Severus goes with you, be sure he’s glamoured properly,” Kingsley ordered. “You are still attending the fundraiser, right?”

“Do you think I should?” Harry hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“Yes. You should be there,” Kingsley said.

Harry knew it wasn’t a suggestion and sighed. It was the yearly Ministry Ball to raise money for the orphanage. Harry loathed the annual event as he had to play nice and mingle with Ministry officials, foreign dignitaries and _John Q. Public_. Since he did so few public events, the Ball had a tendency to attract people that would otherwise not buy tickets just so they had the opportunity to talk or dance with Harry. This year would be filled with dancing with loads of strangers since he didn’t have a date. The thought made him groan.

Kingsley chuckled. “No date this year?”

Harry shook his head and then an idea hit him. He looked at Severus. Severus eyed him nervously. “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to behave at one of those functions,” Severus exclaimed.

Kingsley tapped his lips a moment in thought. “Actually, that is a good idea, but not as your date, Harry.” Kingsley looked at Severus appraisingly.

“Severus, you were always one of the most observant people I knew. If you watched the crowd from an inconspicuous spot, you might pick up something we might otherwise miss.” He turned back to Harry. “If you are a target, Harry, this could very well attract the perpetrator to show himself. I’ll assign several other Aurors to keep a close eye on you.”

“Great. Usually I’m just the PR prop. Now, I’ve been promoted to bait.” Harry sighed dramatically, earning him a glower from his boss.

“It will be interesting to see if anyone shows that has not been there before. We will have cameras on the floor. Just don’t leave with anyone.”

“I don’t think that’s likely, Kingsley,” Harry said in a cynical tone. When was the last time he’d ever left anywhere with a stranger? He thought about Severus’ role and it concerned him. “Don’t you think if Severus comes to the Ball he might be recognized? Not a good way to keep him hidden,” Harry stated.

“Sometimes the best hiding place is in plain sight. Just be sure his glamour is a good one,” Kingsley said. “I’ll get his invitation worked up. What name would you like to go by, Severus?”

Without blinking, Severus answered, “Evan.”

That made Harry blink. Was it still true? Did some part of Severus still love Harry’s mother?

“An interesting choice, Severus.” Kingsley said looking at Harry’s reaction. Kingsley had been one of the few people that witnessed Severus’ pensieve memories in order to exonerate him. He turned back to Severus. “May I ask why?”

“Not sure. Something I remembered. Is it not appropriate?” Severus asked.

“It’s fine. How about a last name?”

“I can’t think of anything offhand.”

“Fine. We’ll think of something suitable along with a fake personal history.” Kingsley stopped a moment and looked Severus up and down. “There’s no time to order formal robes so I’ll send one of my sets. I believe they should fit with little alteration.” Severus looked aghast. Kingsley looked down at his own elaborately decorated bright green Wizarding robes. “Not to worry. I’ll send something more sedate. I don’t want you attracting too much attention.”

“Apparently, that’s my job,” Harry piped in.

“Indeed. I’m sure your celebrity status comes in handy,” Severus replied sarcastically. Harry made a face in response.

“If that’s all for now, gentlemen, I will see you later. It should prove to be a long and interesting day.”

 

* * * * *

 

Hermione studied the video of Rose in shock. “Ron, were you anywhere near Hyde Park yesterday?”

“No. I don’t know how she would have gotten there.” Ron shifted in his seat. They were sitting in Hermione’s home office. She was a solicitor for charitable organizations. She helped set up their official licensing and managed their tax preparations. Ron had joined them at home after Harry contacted him.

“Was she with you the whole time?” Harry asked.

Ron turned a bit red. “Uh, no. We ran into some of her school chums and she wanted to have lunch with them. Hugo and I went to The Crup and Kneazle. I thought she went to Madam Puddifoot’s.”

“Is that place still around?” Harry asked cringing at the memories of the most awkward date in his life.

“You don’t get to Hogsmeade much, do you?” Hermione asked with a smile. “The kids still love it. It’s more popular than ever. Since Hogwarts had a holiday yesterday, I’m sure the place was full of students. That’s one of the few places the boarders can get to. So if they wanted to meet with their non-boarding friends, it’s a convenient location.”

“I still can’t get used to the fact that Hogwarts doesn’t require boarding anymore,” Harry said. After the war, many parents were uneasy about letting their children get too far away from home. As Hogwarts was the center of the final battle, many said their kids couldn’t go back if they couldn’t see them more often.

Headmistress McGonagall offered the option of letting children Floo home each day. Everyone was surprised that at least half the parents took that option. Harry assumed they needed the reassurance that their children were safe. Now, only about a quarter of the student population lived there full time. Most of them lived at home now, including Rose and Hugo. Harry wondered what his years would have been like if it was set up like that. Would he have felt more isolated since he had no home to go to as the Dursleys would have never allowed daily Flooing into their normal home or would he have been closer to the students that remained with him.

“I think we should go talk to her,” Harry suggested.

“Do you think she’s in danger? Should we pull her from the school?” Ron asked.

“I honestly don’t know. She’s probably safe. If we put Neville on alert, he’ll be sure she stays that way.” Harry knew Neville could protect the students. “Who are Rose and Hugo staying with tonight while you’re at the fundraiser?” Harry asked.

“Mum and Dad. They didn’t want to go to the Ball since Dad’s mungusfungus flared up.” Ron scrunched his face in disgust.

“Wish I had a reason like that to stay home,” Harry muttered.

“You’d rather have squishy painful feet than dance with a bunch of fangirls and boys?” Harry just glared at her and she laughed. She turned serious then. “Do you think we should still go? I mean – I understand you having to go, but maybe we should stay home?”

“I’ll go ‘Mione,” Ron offered. “I want to catch this creep and possibly belt them for involving my daughter. I’d feel better if you stayed with the kids.”

Hermione reached out and held his hand. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to protect me,” she said warmly. Ron blushed. “But you’re right. I want to stay with Rose and Hugo. We should be safe at your mum and dad’s place. I’ll put up some extra wards tonight. No one will be able to get in except you.”

She stood up and gathered her things. “Let’s go then. Off to Hogwarts.”

 

* * * * *

 

Neville greeted them happily and offered tea while he sent one of the house elves to get Rose out of her Herbology class and accompany her back to his office.

“Deputy Headmaster, I did not put a _Furnunculus_ hex on Dalias Fertesgon. Whoever told you that is lying! I don’t know where his boils came from!” She blurted out before she noticed her parents and Harry sitting in the room.

“Good to hear, Miss Weasley, but that’s not why I called you here,” Neville said calmly. Harry was impressed at how well Neville had adapted to life as the second in command at Hogwarts. He was sure when McGonagall finally retired, Neville would assume that spot.

“Rose,” Hermione started, “did you go to Hyde Park yesterday.” Rose looked confused.

“No, I was with Dad all day.”

Ron spoke up, “Except for lunch.”

“Oh yeah. I did go to Puddi’s with friends but that’s it.”

Harry gazed at his niece and made direct eye contact. “And you went nowhere else?” he asked.

“No. What’s this about Uncle Harry?”

Hermione handed her the _iPhone_ with the recording. Her eyes widened. “But…that’s me…that can’t be me. I swear – we never left Puddi’s. You can ask any of them – Penelope, Scorpius, Ventura, or Luddy.”

“We will be asking them, Rose so you had better be telling us the truth,” Hermione said with a firm tone in her voice.

“That’s right. I must be lying, right, Mum! I’m always wrong.” Rose’s face turned red in anger.

“Rose, calm down.” Ron said. “Can you remember anything that might have been odd or out of sorts yesterday?”

“I’m telling you – nothing. It was just a normal lunch with my friends.”

“What did you talk about?” Harry asked. Seeing her frustration, he added, “It’s important. A man died near there yesterday and I’m trying to find witnesses. I promise you if you did go there and saw something, your mum and dad won’t punish you.”

Hermione glared at him for a split second and then relaxed. “That’s right, Rose. We’ll let it go if you can help Uncle Harry,” she said.

Rose sat down in a huff. “We just talked about the usual nonsense. Ventura’s new haircut, Penelope’s new bag, Scorpius complained about his father, Luddy complained about the food. Nothing special.” She thought for a moment and then added, “One weird thing did happen. I did get a little dizzy in the Witches Wash. I thought maybe the Plimpy soup had gone sour or something. It passed quickly though and I Flooed back to The Crup and Kneazle to meet Dad.”

The adults all looked at each other. Neville said, “I’ll go get the other students.” He stepped of out of the room.

“Who died?” Rose asked Harry.

Harry thought for a moment and decided to be honest. “I can’t tell you, Rose. We haven’t notified his next of kin, yet. We found him, here.” Harry pointed at the door just behind Rose’s head in the video. Rose paled a little. “Don’t tell anyone about this. I can trust my favorite niece, right?” Harry looked at her earnestly.

She nodded.

* * * * *

 

After interviewing the other students, Hermione and Ron decided to take Rose and Hugo to Ron’s parents immediately. Something was wrong. Each student had felt dizzy and ill in the washroom at Puddi’s.

“Neville,” Harry started, “I don’t know what you want to do. We don’t want to alarm anyone nor have we released this to the public, but I also don’t want to put the kids in harm’s way if there is a danger here.”

“Do you think they’d be safer at home?” Neville asked.

“I don’t know. Many of the parents will be at the fundraiser tonight so I imagine the older kids would be left alone. Are any of Rose’s friends boarders?”

“Scorpius Malfoy and Ventura Brookehall are boarders. The other two Floo home every night.”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that the Malfoys stick with tradition?” Harry asked with a wry smile.

“Actually, it was at Scorpius’ request. He only started boarding this year,” Neville explained. “Draco had to approve but it was not his idea. I was surprised at how much Draco wanted him to remain at home and commute.”

Neville looked contemplative. “I think I’ll offer a last minute feast and festival in the Great Hall for anyone that wants to stay tonight. Students whose parents are attending the Ball tonight have probably made accommodations already, but if I can encourage anyone to stay, we can watch them.” Neville leaned back in his seat. “I’ll have to tell the staff something, Harry.”

“I’m alright with that. Just don’t give too many details and ensure their secrecy for now. I’ll see if I can get some on-duty Aurors to check in on you tonight. Can you really pull something together that fast?” Harry asked.

“I’m married to Luna Lovegood and have access to a hundred House Elves. I could probably start a nargle hunt in ten minutes if I needed to.” Neville laughed.

Harry laughed and had to agree. With Luna, anything was possible. “You and Luna need to visit soon. I need her to teach me how to make her Fairy Fart Cakes. Hugo loves those.”

“Hugo loves booger flavored _Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans_ as well,” Neville observed. “He’s not exactly the bastion of good taste.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that.

* * * * *

 

Harry decided to stop at Madame Puddifoot’s before heading back to check on Severus. It was 11:00 am. He could pick up some lunch and take it home.

The place was even tackier than he remembered. It was still hot, still steamy, and still frilly. He asked for the manager. He probably should have been surprised, but somehow he found he wasn’t. The manager was none other than Lavender _‘Lav-Lav’_ Brown. She didn’t look all that much different except instead of a school uniform, she now wore a frothy white and pink concoction of a dress that matched the equally tacky décor.

“OHMYGODHARRYIT’SSOWONDERFULTO SEE YOU!!!” She was squealing as if they were long lost friends. The few patrons in there looked up to see the commotion. A flash went off. She knocked the wind out of him by hugging him so hard.

“Lavender, it’s nice to see you too,” he said as he pried her arms off of him. He hoped that picture wouldn’t turn up in the papers. He could see the headlines: “Harry Potter Finally Finds True Love at Madame Puddifoot’s” or some such rubbish.

“What are you doing here? Can I get you some tea? Do you have a date coming in? I can get you a nice private room!” She was yelling. He would remember to never bring a date here for a private room if he wanted to _keep_ it private.

“Actually, I’m here on business,” he said to her. Looking around at the nosy patrons, he asked, “Do you have an office we can go to?”

“Sure, sure. Come this way.” Harry followed her into an equally pink office which reminded him of Umbridge. A shudder went through him. He loathed pink. He really loathed it.

After she sat down, he handed her the _iPhone_ with Rose’s photo on it. “Did she come in here yesterday?

“Rose Weasley? Yeah, sure, she was here with a group of friends.”

“So you know who she is?”

Lavender laughed. “Kind of hard to miss that she’s a Weasley and with that bushy mane, she could only belong to Granger. She’s looking for trouble, that one. I bet Ron’s sorry he chose little Miss Brainiac now.”

Harry chose not to comment. Instead, he asked, “Why do you say Rose is looking for trouble?”

“She’s here a lot. Meeting with all kinds of people, kissing lots of different boys and then disappearing with them. She and her friends. A place like this is for sweet romance not for slutting around. It seems odd that they always come here as a group. I’ve suggested they might prefer The Crup and Kneazle down the road. I’ve considered banning them, but Scorpius always tips well. Is she in some kind of trouble?”

Harry heard the false sound of sympathy hitching in Lavender’s voice. He knew she was hoping for gossip. He was afraid he’d need to tell Hermione and Ron about Rose’s reputation. That would go over well. He tried to head it off as best he could. “No. I’m on an investigation and I think she may have seen something. So, she was here for lunch yesterday?” Lavender nodded.  
“What time did she arrive?” Harry asked.

“It was 12:00 exactly. I remember the Malfoy boy yelling at the Lovebirds in the clock to stop cooing at each other. Those birds say “I Love You” twelve times at noon every day. It’s so romantic. But yesterday they only managed ten before the other boy threw a wadded-up napkin at them. The birds had to duck back into their house for safety. They almost didn’t come out for their 1:00 “You’re So Pretty” song, but by then the kids had left so they must have felt safe to come out on their perch again. Those kids are lucky there was no damage. I’d have chucked them out but Rose scolded them for misbehaving. Rose herself isn’t so bad but those other kids – they’re up to no good. You should tell Ron. How is Ron by the way?” she asked, badly hiding the tell-tale signs of crushed romance.

Harry heard _‘Won-Won’_ in his head and almost laughed. She obviously thought he was the one that “got away.” Harry felt a little bad about that. “He’s good,” he answered but refocused on the case. “Rose and her group left about an hour later, then?”

“Oh, goodness no. They only came in for tea and stayed for about twenty minutes before they Flooed out again. They never stay for lunch.”

“Twenty minutes? Are you sure?”

“Yes. They all had some tea and then Flooed out. They Flooed back in about thirty minutes later, used the washrooms and left. That’s what they always do.” Harry now knew why Rose was so hungry when she got home last night. She had thought she’d eaten lunch, but didn’t. So what was she doing for those thirty minutes? Obviously, she was at the crime scene – but why was she there? Who took her there?

“How often does Rose come here? Or her friends?”

“Rose only started coming in a couple of months ago. Maybe once every couple of weeks? The other ones a bit longer. I don’t remember exactly. Hey, Harry, would you sign a picture I can post on the bulletin board?” Lavender requested with a wink. He agreed reluctantly. He might need Lavender’s assistance again.

Something wasn’t adding up and Harry was afraid of what Rose had gotten herself into.


	10. Never Leave Severus Snape to His Own Devices

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\-----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 9 - Never Leave Severus Snape to His Own Devices_

Harry walked into the house to the smell of burnt feathers and macaroni. There were frozen icicles hanging from the ceiling.

He stared at Severus who was calmly sitting in front of the telly as if nothing was wrong. Harry heard his own voice coming from it. He recognized it as an advert from the documentary they showed every year around the anniversary of the end of the war.

“I see you didn’t manage to blow _that_ up.” Harry indicated the telly as he took the food Lavender had packed up for him into the kitchen. One measly signature and Lavender gave him a romantic lunch for two in plastic containers.

He was unpacking it when Severus walked in and watched him. He pulled out the Oyster Stew. It wasn’t one of Harry’s favorites but at least it wasn’t _Swedish Meatballs_.

“Some boxes appeared in your hallway after you left,” Severus informed him.

“Were they from Madame Malkins?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

“Those are the clothes I ordered for you last night,” Harry said as he continued to put things on the table.

“You bought clothes for me? You didn’t need to,” Severus seemed uncomfortable.

“Just say ‘Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate that’.” Harry grinned at him.

“Thank you, Harry,” Severus parroted. “Draco Malfoy came by,” Severus said a few moments later. Harry almost dropped the container of marinated asparagus. He managed to catch it at the last minute and sat it gently down on the table. An almond and fig compote followed.

“Apparently, I’m his godfather. He was very excited to see me. Kingsley told him of my situation. He hugged me without asking. I thought it was rude.” Severus stood there with his arms crossed.

“Severus, you were one of the few people that cared about Draco. He probably missed you. Perhaps you should give him the benefit of the doubt,” Harry suggested.

“I was cordial to him.” Severus seemed insulted that Harry would think otherwise.

“I’m sure you were.” Harry snickered. He pulled down some dishes and utensils and set the table for them.

“He brought me the things Kingsley promised this morning. I am now Evan Kornavich.” Harry made a face. “He wants me to sound foreign,” Severus added when he saw Harry’s expression.

“I see. That would explain why no one would know you. Did he give you a new id card?” He went to get some drinks for them.

“I’m supposed to be from Germany. I can’t do a German accent. He should have asked. I could convincingly pull off Russian, even Italian dialects, but not German.” Severus seemed irritated but sat down at the table.

“Well then, don’t talk to many people. Or tell them you were educated in Moscow,” Harry suggested.

“He also gave me a wand,” Severus added.

“That explains the living room,” Harry said with a grin as he sat next to him at the table. Harry began serving up the food.

Severus watched him for a moment. “I didn’t know how to fix it. I’m sorry.” The apology caught Harry off guard. He had to remind himself this was Severus Snape, the sternest Potions Master East of the Atlantic.

“It’s okay. I’ll clean it up later. Learning magic is never a tidy exercise. I’ll run you through some basics after lunch. You should be at least familiar with a few of them before we go out later.”

“That would be prudent,” Severus said as he looked at the dishes Harry sat in front of him. “Are you trying to tell me something, Harry?” Severus asked.

“What do you mean?” Harry noticed an amused glint in Severus’ eye.

“Oyster stew, asparagus, fig – these are all aphrodisiacs,” Severus said smugly as he lifted a spoonful of warm broth to his lips and blew gently on it. Harry watched the thin lips purse and a fleeting image of the dream went through his mind again. Severus smirked at him after he swallowed. Harry found himself watching Severus’ Adam Apple.

“No – no of course not. Lavender gave these to me,” Harry stammered and began to study the soup in his own bowl.

“Perhaps, she’s trying to tell you something, then. Who is this Lavender?” Severus now had a slightly hard edge to his voice.

Harry explained what he learned that morning. Lunch was good, but even better was having a lunch companion to discuss his morning with.

* * * * *

 

“You should cut my hair,” Severus said, out of the blue, when they finished eating.

Harry gaped at him. They needed to discuss how they should glamour Severus for the foreseeable future. He was surprised that Severus was the one to bring it up. Harry knew it should be simple, but he needed to look different enough so he didn’t remind anyone of the old Severus Snape. However, the more changes made using a glamour, the harder those changes were to hold.

“And perhaps we should color it. There are Muggle ways of doing that, correct?” Severus was studying his teeth in the reflective surface of the spoon. “Then you’d only have to glamour my nose and my teeth.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked. “Why those?”

“I would think my hair and nose were my most distinctive features when I taught. I can only imagine what children said about them.” It was said in a very matter-of-fact tone rather than a self-deprecating one.

“I never minded them,” Harry said in a soft voice.

Severus looked at Harry with scorn. “So, you never called your Potions Professor names like ‘hooknose’, ‘giant bat’ or ‘greasy git’? I saw my photograph in that book. Wearing all black certainly made me look like a giant bat.”

Harry coughed and turned red.

“You don’t deny it then.” Severus looked for confirmation and obviously found it by the snort he gave.

“I was thirteen. And you weren’t exactly nice to me,” Harry explained defensively. “It was a long time ago. I don’t feel that way now.” Harry stood up and led the way to the Master Bath. May as well do it and get it over with.

Severus was gazing at himself in the bathroom mirror once they arrived. Harry stood beside him. “I hope you don’t hold grudges and give me the worst haircut in the world,” Severus said.

“Maybe we should wash it first? I always see hair stylists wash their client’s hair first.” Harry was trying to remember the last time he had to cut someone else’s hair. As far as he could recall, it had been Hugo when the boy had managed to get a wad of _Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum_ stuck in his hair when he was five. He laughed as he told the story to Severus.

“I feel very reassured now,” Severus said with a pained expression.

“You could just do this yourself,” Harry suggested as he transfigured a towel into a chair like they used in the Ministry salon.

“Oh no, you’re my stylist. Don’t screw it up.” Severus crossed his arms in front of him. If Harry didn’t know better, he’d think Severus was teasing him.

“Fine. Just wait a minute. Why don’t you put on a robe so I don’t ruin your clothes.” Harry pointed to a dark blue robe hanging on the back of the door and left the room. He needed to make a quick fire call to Fleur. If anyone would know how to do this, it was Fleur.

Her dainty face appeared in the fireplace with a wide smile. “Har-ee. Eez so good to see you!” Fleur greeted him. “How arez you doeeng?” Her French accent was still very thick.

“Good, Fleur. Hope all of you are well?” She nodded enthusiastically. “I hate to rush you but I need to know how to charm scissors for a decent haircut.”

“Oh, Haree, just comez through. I vill do eet for you,” she offered.

“Um..no it’s not for me. It’s for a...guest.”

“I zee. You have a new boyfriend you wantz to eempress. Nosthing is soo entimate as washing your lovair’s hair, except washing sair feet, maybe.”

Harry blinked. That was a little too much information and a little weird. The sudden image of Severus’ long feet appeared in his mind and he couldn’t help but think of what it would feel like to wash them.

“Thees man, would he look handsome with Beel’z hairstyle?” Harry thought a moment and realized that Severus would look decent with Bill’s cut. It was short and neat. He nodded. “Then, I makes thees easy. Step back.”

Harry did so and after a moment, Fleur stepped through. She handed him a small kit. “Thees is my kit for the family. Eet’s still charmed for Beel’s hair so just use that.”

“Harry, what is taking so long?” Severus yelled from upstairs. He sounded impatient.

Fleur laughed. “That eez him? He sounds so…manly.” Harry was glad that Fleur had barely known Snape so probably wouldn’t recognize his voice. “I bet he has beeg feet.” She winked at Harry. “I leave you to eet then.” She left Harry standing in the room feeling like a tornado had swept through it.

He headed back up trying not to think of Severus’ feet. Thinking of his hair was bad enough.

* * * * *

 

Actually washing and touching Severus’ hair was far worse than he'd imagined, but not for the reason he had thought it would. He had transfigured a stool and had Severus lean back into the sink. He was able to stretch the portable shower massager from the tub over to the sink. The near-silent moans Severus made while Harry shampooed and conditioned his hair were almost obscene. He could feel their vibrations and the warmth of Severus’ breath against his chest when he leaned over him to reach his scalp. It was very distracting and almost sinful.

Finally, he had Severus sit up and face the mirror. He was towel drying Severus’ hair and noticed Severus looking at him in the mirror.

“Is something wrong?” Harry asked.

“No, I was just wondering about the snitch on your arm.” he asked. Harry looked down to see his tattoo had moved to his lower right arm and was fluttering just above his wrist.

“Oh this? I got it on my 21st birthday. I played professional Quidditch for a couple of years after the war. I needed to take a break for awhile.” He was using the charmed comb to untangle the knots in his long hair. “Do you remember what Quidditch is?” Harry asked. Severus’ eyes had closed but he nodded until Harry used his hand to stop his head from moving. It was a little surreal to be touching the man like this.

“A foolish game if I recall. But you were always good on a broom,” Severus answered softly.

Harry stopped. “Do you remember…I mean are you remembering me?”

Severus opened his eyes and looked confused. “I, uh, no, not really. I get flashes. Little pictures. I saw an image of you flying on a broom in some kind of uniform chasing a gold ball like your tattoo. Malfoy as well, but in different colors.”

Harry resumed combing. “In school, Draco and I were on different teams.”

Harry finished combing and opened the grooming kit. “Is short okay?” Harry asked. He hoped it was since he had no idea how to do anything else.

“I leave it in your capable hands,” Severus answered.

“Did you just compliment me, sir?” Harry asked. He cringed at how the _‘sir’_ came out automatically. He felt quite thrilled at the compliment and irritated that he felt that way.

Severus studied him in the mirror. “I take it that’s not something I normally do?”

“Not often, no.” Harry downplayed it. “It’s kind of nice.”

“Then, I guess, don’t do anything to mess this up,” Severus replied with a smirk.

Harry made a face at him. “No pressure or anything,” Harry muttered. He took a deep breath and let the magical comb measure out the correct length of hair for Harry to hold as the charmed shears made sure the cuts were even and clean.

* * * * *

 

They were back in the living room, working on basic spells. He started with _Accio_ and _Alohamora_ since Severus seemed to remember them. Severus was a quick study. Harry wasn’t sure if it was because he really did learn that fast or if his memories of the spells were being triggered. He was showing the elaborate wand movements of _Petrificus Totalus_ when he noticed Severus staring at his face and not his wand.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Yes. I saw you on the news earlier. You were speaking at some recent function,” Severus stated. He slid his wand in the holster Draco had provided.

Harry wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Yes. That was probably the Memorial breakfast that was held yesterday.” He sat on the edge of the couch and looked up at Severus. The man clearly had a theory he was working on.

“It’s been twenty years, right?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you find it odd that on the day of the twentieth anniversary of the Dark Lord’s demise that a Death Eater turns up dead holding a vial of your hair? Another one returns from the dead?”

“The thought had occurred to me.”

“Are you often on the news? I saw an advert for a documentary about you that is being aired later tonight.”

“They show that every year around this time. I don’t make many public appearances and for the most part, the press leaves me alone so long as I agree to the occasional interview.”

“Doesn’t being famous make it difficult to be an Auror?” Severus asked.

“It’s one reason I do so many international assignments. Overseas, they mostly know me from when I was younger. The war didn’t affect them as personally or dramatically as it did here. I’m mostly a footnote in history in other cultures. It’s also why I became so good with glamours.”

“I see. So the only time people know that Harry Potter will appear publically is at this time of year?”

“I suppose that’s right.”

“So there’ll be a lot of fans there tonight.” Severus stated this as fact and under his breath. Harry barely heard him. Severus sat down on the recliner in deep contemplation.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours?” Harry asked.

“Do you have any overly eager fans or fans that you see regularly?”

“I suppose so. I don’t respond to owls if that’s what you mean. My secretary handles them.”

“Your secretary?”

“The departmental secretary, rather. Justin Abbott. I don’t get many of them anymore and he’ll alert me if anything comes in that warrants my attention.”

“And nothing has lately?”

“No, other than a several requests for autographed pictures for sick children. I always sign those.”

A sudden buzzing interrupted them. Harry looked around trying to figure out where it was coming from. Severus joined him and finally traced it to the _iPhone_ lying on the kitchen table where Harry had dropped it at lunch.

Severus looked at it and huffed. “It’s Sherlock, for you,” and handed it to Harry.

“How do you…,” Harry looked down and saw Sherlock’s face staring back at him.

“What is taking you so long?” Sherlock asked impatiently. Harry looked around trying to figure out what he was supposed to press.

“Hit the button that says ‘answer’ so I can see you, too” Sherlock explained. He looked to another man standing next to him. “I should have gotten you the voice activated one.” The shorter man frowned. The comment confirmed that the phone Harry currently held was John’s phone. Harry hit the button Sherlock referenced.

“Hello? Can you see me?” Harry asked tentatively, feeling rather silly talking into a small handheld device.

“Finally. Yes, we can see you. Are you about ready? I have some things I’d like to show you. Can you come to my place?”

“Are you still at 221B Baker?”

“I’m impressed you remembered,” Sherlock said. “Your usual spot is clear.”

“OK. We’re on our way.” Harry put the phone into his pocket. “Let me finish your glamour,” he said to Severus. As they didn’t have time to do Muggle hair coloring on Severus, Harry just added it to the glamour. Hair color changes were the simplest glamours to hold so it required no real effort.

A small voice from his pocket said, “Hey, end this chat.” Harry blushed and pulled the phone out again. He was annoyed to see Sherlock’s grinning face. Harry found the end call button and Sherlock’s face disappeared.


	11. Dr. Watson, I Presume?

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----**

 **  
Crime is of the Essence    
**

  
_Chapter 10 – Dr. Watson, I Presume?_   


Severus was sporting grey in his now short brown hair and wore dark khaki colored trousers tucked into earth brown dragonhide boots. A sky blue oxford peeped out from under a dark blue fitted robe that had been delivered from Madame Malkins. Harry glamoured Severus’ eyes to be several shades lighter, but still a rich brown. And, per Severus’ request, had straightened his nose and teeth. Harry had avoided any black for the time being.

Harry was impressed that Apparating seemed to have no effect on Severus. He neither lost his balance nor his lunch. They appeared in an alley behind Sherlock’s place.

John Watson greeted them at the door. Harry felt relieved that finally there was another man that wasn’t gigantically tall. Being around Sherlock, Kingsley and Severus was making Harry feel quite tiny. Harry noticed Sherlock sitting at a desk placed on the far wall.

“That was fast,” the man commented. “You must not have been far away.” Harry wondered if Sherlock had told John about the Wizarding World. In walking distance, they were a good twenty minutes away and it had only been about seven minutes since they had spoken.

“You must be John Watson.” Harry held out his hand in greeting. “I’m Harry Potter and this is Evan Kornavich.” John shook Severus’ hand as well. Sherlock looked up from his computer and gazed at Severus intently.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Sherlock has told me about you,” Harry said. Harry thought the older man was nice looking. He seemed down-to-earth.

John looked at Sherlock and then back at Harry. “Really? Sherlock has told me nothing about you, other than that he was giving you my phone.” He sounded aggravated. Harry could understand his feelings. John eyed their robes suspiciously.

“Er.. sorry?” Harry said. He had also heard the exasperation in John’s voice at Sherlock’s antics and sympathized with him.

John shook his head. “It’s not your fault. I just hate using his old phone. The touchscreen sticks. I guess I’m lucky he kept it activated as a back-up.” He stepped back to wave them through the door. “Please come in. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Get them some tea, John. Harry likes Earl Grey. And, Evan was it? What do you like?” Harry could see Sherlock was evaluating something about Severus. He could guess what it was.

“The same,” Severus answered.

“Why am I not surprised?” Sherlock asked rhetorically.

“Fine. I’ll be a few minutes.” John walked into the next room. The flat was open so there were no dividers between the living space and the kitchen. Harry remembered the bedrooms were on the upper floors. It had been a long time since he had been here.

Sherlock spun on his seat and leaned forward, deeply interested in Severus. “Evan, huh? Any particular reason for that name?” He glanced at Harry.

Harry shook his head in warning. “Sherlock, this is not the time…”

“Harry, this is actually important. Did you choose that name or did someone from the Ministry choose it?”

“I did and no, I do not know why. It just came to me,” Severus explained, looking somewhat baffled.

“Interesting. And quite telling.” Sherlock spun his chair back to his laptop. “I’ve been running searches all morning to see if I could find other mentions of the oddly costumed people in Hyde Park. I was able to access the Wizarding World Wide Web – wwww dot whatever urls your people have come up with in the last few years. Kingsley sent one of his people over this morning to assist. Truly extraordinary how your world has caught up to Muggle technology in the last few years. Next thing you know, you’ll be inventing Wizarding apps!”

Harry pulled up a second chair and sat next to Sherlock, interested. Severus stood just behind Harry.

“Does John know?” Harry asked.

“A little. I had to tell him why he couldn’t find your place. I don’t think he believes me. You’ll need to perform the oath or _Obliviate_ him later if he does.”

“Hopefully one or the other will work on him since they never did on you,” Harry pointed out.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow as if to say, _‘I’m special’._

“Quickly, back to what I’ve found. In searches, I’ve found several other photos and one other recording. I’ve not sent them to you yet, but I will. I wanted you to take a quick look at the recording.”

The video showed a Wizard walking into the store. The caption read “A Freak Convention Held in a Freaky Place”. The Muggle obviously only saw the rundown building and not the Wizard shop that was visible to magical people. The recording didn’t last long, a few seconds at best.

The windows were blacked out, but just over the shoulder of the Wizard, you could see a bit of the counter within. Sherlock blew the picture up. “I’ve enhanced this a bit. Listen closely to the audio.” He handed a pair of headphones to Harry.

The audio was slightly garbled but Harry heard, “…got…Essence... Evan,” a high aristocratic masculine voice said. “’Bout time,” a second voice, deep with a thick Cockney accent answered. “We’re runnin’ low and a customer is comin’ in for it. Lock….” The first voice shut him up, “Quiet! Don’t say that…” The door had swung shut and the protective charm on the building must have reset. Harry’s eyes widened and he stared at Severus.

He slid the headphones off and handed them to him. Severus listened and John had come back into the room and set the tea down. He walked up behind everyone. As far as Harry knew, John would only be able to see a dilapidated old building.

“Tea’s ready,” John said. Severus pulled the headset off and they all joined him around the coffee table.

They sat as John poured. There was an awkward silence. Harry attempted polite conversation. “So John, how long have you..er..known… Sherlock?”

John watched them all every carefully. “Since about 2010. And one of these days he may finally tell me what’s going on.” They all looked at him. “I’m not an idiot. Sherlock’s been working on a top secret case for the government that I don’t have clearance for, right? That’s why he’s been dodgy the last few days. He actually tried to get me to believe that magic existed. Can you imagine? Then he recommended I go to the movies this afternoon. Harry, you seem to know Sherlock, even though in the eight years I’ve known him, he has never mentioned your name. Is Sherlock the type of man to recommend a movie?”

“Uh, no,” Harry answered truthfully.

John leaned forward with a smile. “I’m right then, aren’t I,” he asked, seeming very confident in his theory.

“You are very astute,” Severus piped in. He looked at Harry. “Indeed, we’ve hired Mr. Holmes for a very secret mission. Requires top level clearance only. Nothing personal. I’m sorry we can’t say more than that,” he said, with a very thin veneer of politeness.

John stood. “I understand. I’ve served the Queen, you know,” he said.

“I am well aware of your background otherwise you would not have been permitted to be here at all.” Harry was quite impressed with Severus’ imperiousness.

“I see,” John answered. “I’ll make myself scarce then, shall I?” Severus nodded. John seemed to accept that Severus was the lead investigator. He gathered up his things to head out. “I assume you’ve had a breach in security and you are seeking a traitor from your department?”

Harry cocked his head. “What makes you think that?”

“The uniforms. Those long robes must be required but they make you stand out a bit. I noticed the men on the video wearing them, too. So someone within your organization is doing something illegal and you’re tracking them.”

The three stared at him in silence.

“Okay then. I’ll see you later, Sherlock. Magic – hah! As if I’m _that_ gullible.” John turned and left them alone.

“He’s very observant,” Harry stated.

Sherlock agreed. “And I can see why you were considered such a good spy, Severus,” he added. “So, now Evan takes on a different meaning.” Sherlock went back to their previous subject.

“What is the ‘Essence of Evan’? Is that a potion ingredient?” Harry asked.

“It would explain my presence there and possibly why it was important to me,” Severus mused.

Harry wasn’t sure whether to be happy it didn’t automatically mean Severus still loved his mother, Lily Evans, or upset about it.

“It doesn’t sound familiar, though. Not like other ingredients that I can recite from memory: aconite, acromantula venom, armadillo bile, ashwinder eggs, asphodel, bella donna, bezoar…” Severus’ voice had gone soft as if reciting potion ingredients was a meditation mantra.

“We don’t need the _Encyclopedia of Potions,_ ” Sherlock interrupted. “This Essence of Evan seems relatively recent. Once I heard the name, I began searching the Wizardnet. I’ve found very few mentions of it and the sites that did mention it are shady at best.”

“Meaning it’s probably an illegal drug of some sort,” Harry thought out loud. “It would explain the ever-relocating store.”

“Yes, but how would users know when and where the supply was set to arrive?” Severus asked.

“That’s been my question as well. I think I might know.” Sherlock pulled his _iPhone_ out. He was obviously pulling something up and handed the phone to Harry and Severus.

Harry read the short message: ‘More Evan expected. 513132053.779828052313-0754.6023196.’

“The message had been posted at 1:03 today, or 13:03 if you’re still keeping military time, Harry. Since it’s just past 2:00 now this is a very recent message. The user name isn’t helpful either. It seems to have been posted by johnqsmith. This is actually a jpeg image of the original message. The actual post was deleted several minutes later. They are using Flitter to deliver messages to their clients.”

“How on earth did you find that?” Harry asked.

“You know how I’ve always said I don’t believe in luck?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, remembering their first argument when Sherlock refused to believe that magic existed.

“I got lucky,” he responded and popped a small butterscotch candy into his mouth from the bowl on the table.


	12. Reporting In

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\-----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 11 – Reporting In_

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry finished filling in Kingsley, Draco, Ron and Hermione about what Severus, Sherlock and he had learned. They were comparing notes. Hermione was in the recliner, listening to the video recordings on Harry’s _iPhone_. Although not an official Auror, Kinglsey never minded when they used her as a “consultant”. Harry, Sherlock and Severus sat on the sofa while the other three were on the extra kitchen chairs Harry had pulled into the room. He had, at least, transfigured them to be slightly more comfortable.

“So, no one in the Department of Mysteries has heard of the Essence of Evan?” Harry asked. Draco and Kingsley had just finished a fire-call with Banner, the head of that department.

Draco shook his head. Kingsley added, “Nor has anyone in any of the other departments. If it’s a drug, it’s very new.”

“I guess St. Mungos better get a bigger rehab section. Between all the Polyjuice addicts clogging up their outpatient beds and the Rapturous users filling the in-patient rooms, there'll be no space for new druggies,” Ron commented.

Draco was looking at Sherlock’s _iPhone_ which Harry noticed was making Sherlock twitch nervously. Harry rubbed Sherlock’s thigh in reassurance.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think those numbers were Apparation coordinates,” Draco stated as he studied the screen.

“Too many numbers. I thought so at first, too. Have you talked to Scorpius, yet?” Harry asked.

“I did. He was quite upset that someone might have tampered with his memories. He didn’t even remember why they started going to Madame Puddifoot’s in the first place.”

Kingsley looked at both Ron and Draco. “Are both of you up to attending the fundraiser tonight? I can reassign Willoughby and Strank if you’d prefer to be with your children.” Ron shook his head to decline the offer.

“Scorpius said he’d prefer to stay at Hogwarts,” Draco replied.

“What made him want to start boarding?” Harry asked. Draco glared at him. Harry knew he probably shouldn't ask something that personal in this group, but it sort of slipped out. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You never do, do you, Potter? Yet, somehow, you always manage to,” Draco replied with a small laugh. “No matter. Scorpius doesn’t like Malfoy Manor, particularly after Astoria passed. The portraits were always insulting us. I _Silencio’d_ the lot of them but he is still uncomfortable there. I think it reminds him too much of his mother. He’s always been sensitive.”

Harry remembered Astoria fondly and could understand the boy’s feelings. “The portraits at Hogwarts talk too, don’t they?”

“Yes, but they’re not family. As you might recall, my parents were not the most friendly of people. Our ancestors were worse. At least at Hogwarts there’s only one relative’s portrait in the dungeons and she is remarkably quiet. Rachnia barely said two words to me when I attended school. That’s about as pleasant as my family gets.”

“Your mother saved my life, Draco,” Harry reminded him.

“And yet when was the last time you asked her for tea or visited us at the Manor?” Draco asked with a sour look. Harry flushed. He barely asked Draco to lunch when he was in town, let alone his extended family.

The only reason Malfoy Manor was still in Draco’s possession was Harry’s passionate argument that the woman who had saved him should not lose her home for her husband’s transgressions. In the end, the Manor was about all they had left. Narcissa refused to sell it, instead selling off other property to maintain it. She'd wanted Lucius to have it after he’d finished his latest stint in Azkaban which had ended five years prior. The only thing they had managed to get him on was tax evasion, but it was enough to strip most of their wealth. Since his release though, Lucius had been busy trying to rebuild his empire. The man had a nose for business that Harry couldn’t deny and charisma enough to woo a niffler into giving you its gold. The fact that he’d begun appearing in the society pages once again, without any taint on him, was evidence enough.

Harry hated going to the Manor. It made him think about the time he'd spent in their dungeon. He shuddered. He felt a hand soothing his back and he looked over to see Severus watching him closely as he rubbed circles in between Harry’s shoulder blades. He smiled gratefully at Severus for trying to comfort him. He then felt a hand from his other side rest on his thigh. Sherlock was returning the favor. He saw Severus’ gaze shift to the hand on his leg and narrow. Severus removed his hand, followed by Sherlock.

Harry shifted forward in the seat awkwardly. “Point taken, Draco.” Harry was glad Ron had stayed silent throughout the discussion of Draco’s parents. Draco and Ron had a cordial working relationship but that would be about the extent of it.

“What I don’t understand is how our kids got mixed up in this?” Ron said completely oblivious to the odd interaction between the three men on the couch.

“I don’t understand why Scorpius likes Rose so much. I thought he had better taste than to fall for a Weaselby,” Draco muttered but then Harry noticed the mischievious glint in Draco’s eyes as he looked up from under long blond lashes. Upon seeing Ron’s face turn red, he laughed. “I’m just poking at you. You really are too easy to get riled up. Rose seems quite normal. Amazing that, considering her parents.”

“If you gentlemen are finished?” Kingsley gave them a bemused look and then turned to Sherlock. “Sherlock, you mentioned…”

Hermione looked up and her eyes widened. “Oh my god!” Hermione yelled, interrupting Kingsley’s query. “I’m so stupid.” She stood up and ran out of the room and into Harry’s study.

“Well, she finally concedes my brilliance,” Draco said as they all stared at the empty hall she'd just run down.

“Are they always this way?” Severus asked Harry. Harry nodded. Severus noticed Ron gawking at him once again. “Mr. Weasley, do I have spinach in my teeth?”

“Wha? Oh, sorry sir. It’s just hard to believe you’re really Professor Snape. I mean, you don’t even look all gre…”

“Ron,” Harry warned.

“I mean, you don’t look like I remember. It’s just weird, that’s all.”

Severus arched an eyebrow at him and stared until Ron blushed. “I think I’ll go see what Hermione is up to,” Ron said finally and left the room.

Draco snickered. “Potter, you really should have shook my hand,” he said. It was an old, long-standing joke between them.

Sherlock shifted on the other side of Harry. “Perhaps I should attend this affair as well,” he said, changing the topic completely.

Everyone looked at him. “I believe something of great importance will happen tonight at the Ball. Are there any dignitaries attending?”

“Certainly. As usual, there will be Ministry officials, statesmen, celebrities and foreign dignitaries.”

“I wonder if this is not about drug use at all?” Sherlock pondered out loud.

Before Harry could ask him to elaborate, Hermione came back in to the room and thrust the _iPhone_ into Harry’s hand. “We were wrong. It wasn’t some kind of lock they were talking about,” she said referring to their initial conversation after everyone had watched the recording. “Listen to the first voice again very carefully.” She hit play and turned the audio up as loud as she could. Ron was standing behind her.

“…got…Essence... Evan ,” the first voice said. Harry thought it did sound a little familiar. “’Bout time,” the second voice replied. “ I’m runnin’ low and a customer is coming in for it. Lock…. “The first voice interrupted, “Quiet! Don’t say that…”

Ron spoke up, “Now that you mention it, it does ring a bell.” He screwed up his face in concentration.

“Don’t sprain yourself thinking, Weasley,” Draco joked. “He is right. He sounds a little like that prat that taught Defense in our second year.”

“Yes!! Exactly!” Hermione shouted. She was very excited. “The lock they mentioned wasn’t a thing. It was a name. He was saying ‘Lockhart’!”

“What would this Lockhart have to do with Polyjuice Potion?” Severus asked. “Is he a Potions Master?”

Harry glanced at Severus and shook his head. “No, but he _was_ incredibly gifted with memory charms.” Sudden understanding hit everyone.

“I thought he was locked up in St. Mungos, though? Didn’t the man blow his own memory out,” Draco asked.

“That’s what Hermione was checking on,” Ron said. “Guess who made a full recovery and was released nine months ago?”

“The Ministry was never notified of that,” Kingsley said. “Gilderoy Lockhart has crimes he needs to answer for now that he's regained his memory.”

“That’s the interesting thing,” Ron said. “When I asked if the Ministry had been notified, she said his files had no notation that notification was required. I think we need to get a warrant to see those files.”

“It would be interesting to find out who authorized his release,” Severus added.

“Draco, you and Ron should visit St. Mungos. I’ll fire-call Millsbury and get an emergency warrant,” Kingsley directed.

He turned to the others. “Good work. It’s 16:00 now. Let’s see if we can figure out where Lockhart went after he left the hospital.”

“Another thing,” Hermione said. “Lockhart said his goal back then was to market a line of hair care products.”

“I don’t believe he’s selling illegal shampoo and styling mousse,” Harry quipped.

“No, of course not. But considering his passion for it, I think it would mean he would know a lot about the use of hair in magical rites,” she explained.

“Why would he target Harry?” Severus asked.

“It was my fault he lost his memory,” Harry replied.

“Technically, it was mine since it was my broken wand that caused the backfire,” Ron argued.

“But he was cursing me at the time,” Harry responded. “I’m sure he would view it as at least partially my fault. He lost all his credibility and over ten years of his life because of those events.” Harry paused. “But…I wonder how he got my hair?” He thought for a moment and expanded his range of thought. He may _not_ be the only target. Just the only one he knew about. He looked at Ron, “If Lockhart did blame both of us, how would he get our hair?”

Harry raised his eyebrows as realization hit.

Ron, Severus and Sherlock all said in unison, “Rose!”

Ron sat, looking faint.

Harry nodded. “Rose: the perfect accomplice. She has access to his targets and he can make her forget she ever helped him.”

“Weaselby is in danger, too?” Draco asked.

“Possibly,” Kingsley said. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions but we need to take precautions. Draco, you’ll be Ron’s bodyguard tonight. Severus, you and Sherlock will watch Harry. I’ll implement wand identification security protocols for the event as well. I’ll notify the Auror Corps to watch for Lockhart and assign additional plainclothes Aurors to Security. We still don’t know what Lockhart might be planning.”

“So, this could be a case of simple revenge?” Severus asked.

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about this,” Sherlock answered.


	13. A Little Jealousy Goes a Long Way

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 12 – A Little Jealousy Goes a Long Way_

When it was just the three of them again, Harry left to use the facilities. When he came back, Sherlock and Severus were staring at each other, not a word between them. He glanced between them and walked into the kitchen to get a drink. He brought each of them a glass as well.

“So our working theory is for some reason Gilderoy Lockhart has decided to blame me and Ron for his incarceration and illness and is somehow using Rose to collect our hair, then _Obliviating_ her in order to perpetrate some revenge against us?” Now that he said it out loud, it seemed wrong.

“It sounds plausible, but..” Severus began.

“It doesn’t explain the other dead Death Eater or Severus’ appearance,” Sherlock finished.

“Right,” Harry agreed with them. There was something they were missing. He was sure Lockhart was involved but it wasn’t just about revenge, although there may be an element of it there.

“I’d like to spend some more time looking at the other photos. Can I use your phone?” Severus requested.

Harry was about to hand it to him, when Sherlock stopped him. “Harry, you should hold on to this. You are the one in danger.”

“Yes, you’re right. I just can’t seem to get used to carrying it. We can load the files into my computer, right?” Harry fluttered his eyelashes teasingly at Sherlock and asked, “Or rather you could?”

“You have an actual computer?” Sherlock asked. “How did I miss that?”

“It’s in my study. It’s a very basic model but since we have them at work, I got one to check email when I work from home. I think it will play the videos. I’ve never tried it before.”

They all walked to the small study near the foyer. The Floo in the room was too small for travelling, but Harry used it for calls from work. There was a sturdy wooden desk on one side of the room and a couple of reading chairs on the other. The wall was covered in a busy fleur-de-lis pattern in dark green which hid the old Black Family Tree that was behind it. Harry sat down and fired up the computer.

Sherlock laughed when he saw it. “Harry, I’m not even sure this qualifies as a computer. It’s more like an interactive shoebox!”

“Shut it. I’m hardly ever here and when I am, I don’t use it much. It is just for emails.”

Sherlock waved the _iPhone_ in his face. Harry made a face. “Yeah, yeah I get it. This stuff is just not my thing.”

Severus looked impassively at the computer. “I have no idea how to use this contraption.”

“It’s simple.” Harry opened his email and downloaded the files that Sherlock sent. He showed Severus the basics.

“Can you access – what was it – the Wizarding Web thing?” Severus asked.

"Yes, you can.” He stood up and let Severus sit in the chair. He reached around Severus’ tall body to show him how to use the mouse to click on the web icon. The _MaGoogley_ browser opened up. He showed the man how to do a simple search.

“This is…” Severus started.

“Brilliant, I know,” Sherlock interrupted. “Of course, imagine if this was actually current technology.”

Severus looked up at Sherlock dismissively. “I was going to say, ‘This is a lazy way of doing things.’ Really, if all anyone has to do is look up a fact on here, why bother going to school at all?” Severus sniped.

Harry laughed. “You and I are very old school, Severus. I can see that. But I suppose it does come in handy once in a while,” he added in a conciliatory tone to Sherlock. “Anyway, I want to go to the office and review my mail. Maybe Justin overlooked something. Will you be ok here for a couple of hours?”

“Yes. I’m sure I can manage to not get myself killed while you are gone,” Severus answered.

“I’ll be right back.” Harry said.

“Why? Is this a trial run to be sure I don’t burn down your house?” Severus quipped.

Harry laughed and then pointed at the ceiling to remind Severus about his earlier attempts at magic. Severus huffed but didn’t say anything. Harry explained, “I need to go get my wand. I left it in the other room.” He swore he could feel Sherlock and Severus watching him exit. He hurried to get it. After the uncomfortable silence he had walked into earlier, he thought he shouldn’t leave them alone for long.

“What are you going to do while he’s gone?” Harry heard Severus ask Sherlock as he came back down the hallway. He paused by the door to listen.

“I’m going with him. I need to watch his back,” Sherlock said.

“Yes. I’ve seen you watch his _‘back’_ ,” Snape replied with a sarcastic lilt.

“What do you mean by that?” Sherlock asked. Harry heard an odd tone in his voice.

“That was a euphemism,” Severus said in a snide tone as if Sherlock was too stupid to understand the word. “I said _‘watch his back’_ meaning I’ve seen you stare at his bum,” Severus clarified.

“Is that jealousy?” Sherlock asked, sounding amused. “Could it be that you’re interested in Harry?’

Severus grunted, but didn’t answer.

Harry felt ridiculously pleased by the entire exchange and the fact that Snape didn’t deny his interest. If Severus hadn’t been a little jealous, Harry was sure his answer would have been “Why would I be interested in that useless cretin?” Harry was trying not to grin madly as he walked back in the room.

* * * * *

 

“Nothing. There’s nothing here,” Harry said as he flipped through the fan mail Justin had filed away. Even though Harry didn’t read the majority of it, Justin still kept it all, neatly sorted and stored. He was a very organized man. Harry turned to flipping through the images on the _iPhone_ to see if anything matched his recent mail. After a while, he slammed it on his desk in frustration and rubbed his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say there’s nothing here. You seem to have some very ardent fans,” Sherlock held up a lacey brassiere that some Witch had sent in suggesting she could be the one to make Harry like women instead of men. There was also an elaborate wedding proposal enclosed that burst forth into flowers, sparkles and a cheesy love song by Celestina Warbeck. Sherlock smiled at Harry who rolled his eyes and grabbed the bra from him along with a handful of confetti.

“Very funny,” Harry said. “I get those fairly regularly – from both women and men, but they’re generally harmless.”

“So no over-enthusiastic fans stalking you?” Sherlock asked.

“Not in the last few years,” Harry said.

“So you _have_ had some in the past?”

“There have been a few over the years but nothing serious.”

Sherlock thought for awhile and then asked, “Do you have access to the guest list for tonight?”

Harry shook his head but said he could get it and left the room for a few minutes to get a copy from Justin.

* * * * *

 

“The Department of Muggle Relations?” Sherlock asked, looking at the list.

“It’s the department that is used to hide magical accidents from the Muggle World. That’s actually the department that pays for your consulting fee,” Harry explained.

“And this Farily Squaggles? She’s listed as an outside guest of the Department.”

Harry thought for a moment. He had forgotten she was attending. “She’s an Ambassador for Muggle-Wizard Relations from America. It used to be that only the Minister of Magic had contact with the Prime Minister and other foreign leaders but recently she’s been pushing for us to _“come out of the broom closet”_ so to speak.”

“How has that suggestion gone over?”

“The general public is not aware of it, but within the Ministry, it’s an open secret. As you can imagine, there have been mixed reactions. The idealist in me would love to break down the walls of secrecy between us but the pragmatist realizes that humans – Wizard or Muggle – don’t like people that are different than themselves. Particularly, if those people seem to have more power. I can’t imagine the Muggle World readily welcoming us.” Harry thought back to his own relatives’ reactions and realized just how bad the Muggle reception to the news could be.

“If I recall, your Death Eaters did not care for Muggles, correct?”

“No. That would be an understatement. If I’m following your thought process, they would not welcome telling the Muggles that we exist.” Harry sat back in his seat. “You think this is political?”

“Certainly if someone wanted to assassinate the Ambassador, Polyjuicing into one of two high-ranking heroes that work in the Auror's office might get them access to her.”

“We should tell Kingsley. He’ll need to add additional security for her. Remember, someone impersonated him as well.”

“True. Are there any other sensitive guests on this list?”

Seeing Lucius Malfoy’s name on the list made his lip curl in disgust, “Other than the usual ones, no one new.” He was sure Lucius would ask for a dance. He did so every year just to make Harry uncomfortable. Draco always teased him about it the next day. He glanced at the list again. While there were a number of people listed that were involved in controversial issues, Ambassador Squaggles seemed the most likely target. Her agenda was the most radical of them all.

Looking at his watch, he realized it was getting late. He left Sherlock in his office while he tracked Kingsley down to tell him what they hadn’t found and to ask him to finalize arrangements for Sherlock’s attendance at the Ball before he headed back, alone, to Grimmauld Place. Harry needed to eat, dress and talk to Severus.

* * * * *

 

Dinner was quiet. Harry’s stomach was upset. Severus didn’t say much, but he did massage Harry’s shoulders which helped. He kept getting the feeling that Severus was avoiding something.

“Is something wrong?” Harry finally asked.

“No, of course not,” Severus said, but it was plain he was lying.

“Did you learn anything today,” Harry pushed as he looked up at him. Severus blushed and looked away.

“You did. What was it?” Harry was curious as to what could make Severus Snape blush. At Severus’ continued silence, he added, “I won’t be upset.”

Severus sat down. “Did you know there are places on that contraption that have stories and images about you? And I don’t mean that rubbish on _The Daily Prophet EW-News_.”

Harry laughed. He thought he knew where this was going. “Yes. I’ve told you I have fans.”

“They write very explicit things about you.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t use the Wizarding Web much. I accidentally came across a Wizarding portrait of Draco and I doing perverted things with our brooms. I've never been able to look at broom polish the same way again.”

“That’s horrible!” Snape exclaimed.

Harry laughed recalling his own reaction when he first came across those sites. He’d gotten over it a long time ago. “It’s just their imagination, Severus. Haven’t you ever fantasized about anyone? That’s all it is. It’s just a fantasy. None of it is real.”

“There are stories about you and me, as well,” Severus added as if gauging Harry’s easy acceptance.

“Really? I did _not_ know that.” Harry smirked. “I bet they’re hot, though,” he teased.

Severus almost spluttered. “There seems to be a major misunderstanding of what detentions were about.”

“They probably wrote about you spanking and whipping my bare bum, right?”

Severus didn’t say anything but turned a brighter shade of red.

“Oh my god – that’s true, isn’t it?!” Harry exclaimed. Severus nodded.

“I guess it’s just as well detentions weren’t served that way. I’d have probably been begging for more. Honestly, anything would have been better than dealing with bubotuber pus,” Harry said before he took another mouthful.

Seeing Severus’ open mouth of shock, he followed with, “I’m kidding…a little.” Harry found it fun to tease the older man. He corrected his own thinking. Technically, they were the same age now. That was a hard concept to wrap his mind around. He thought he should go read some of those stories.


	14. The Ball

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

Special thanks to NambaWann, lorystar7, carolinelamb and reichan3586 for their help on the German translation. If I messed it up, it’s completely my fault.

 **\-----**

 

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 13 – The Ball_

Sherlock and Severus arrived together at the Ball. Since it was mostly a couple’s event, they didn’t want to stand out, but Harry thought they did anyway. He hoped they would dance at least once. The image of the two gangly men trying to lead each other made Harry snort out loud, much to the dismay of Georgia Beecock, an elderly woman with more money than style. She had been droning on for five minutes about her latest knitting project.

Harry had spent the first hour in the front lobby with the press and the public. He did this for the people that could not afford the tickets to the fundraiser proper. His eyes were almost blinded from all the camera flashes. He kissed babies, talked to kids (his favorite part), and listened to both praise and condemnation from their parents. Not everyone was a fan after all. Rita Skeeter managed to get him to promise a dance to her later. His dance card was a complete nightmare but it would be up to Justin to manage it. It was all for a good cause though, Harry reminded himself, but he was pleased that the first part of the evening was over.

The Ball itself was held in the Atrium. The dancing was held in the center and the rest overflowed into the connecting halls. Harry was glad at least they stopped decorating the place with large elaborate portraits of the “heroes” of the war ten years prior. Tonight, it was tastefully decorated and a small orchestra provided soft background music.

Harry was watching Sherlock and Severus circle the room. They both looked very handsome. Severus wore formal Wizarding robes in a solid black with a wine red silk shirt underneath that peeped out above the collar and below his robe sleeves. He had donned small square-rimmed black glasses which emphasized his “smaller” nose. Harry thought he looked distinguished.

Sherlock also wore black but he was in a traditional Muggle suit except for the long tails. The style was all the rage at the moment. Under the suit he wore a dark purple shirt with a black tie. His normally dark brown curly hair was now a short blond buzz-cut. The glamour Kingsley cast on him had widened Sherlock’s jawline, but shortened the length of his face. If Harry looked carefully, he could see the face he knew so well, but only because he already knew it was Sherlock. That was the only issue with glamours. If someone knew it was you, they could see right through it.

He was admiring them from across the fountain when he caught Severus’ eye. He saw Severus’ nudge Sherlock to indicate where Harry was. His _‘guards’_ were now on alert. Kingsley came up behind Harry with Farily Squaggles on his arm.

“Harry, I’d like to introduce you to Ambassador Squaggles,” he said.

Harry held out his hand to shake hers. “It’s nice to meet you, Ambassador.”

“Please, call me Farily. I’m quite honored to finally meet ‘The Chosen One’. I feel like I know you so well.” The title made Harry almost visibly wince. He hated it but she had such a genuine warmth to her voice, he couldn’t really mind it. “You’re even more handsome in person,” she added with broad smile.

Harry saw Kingsley give the signal to the orchestra to start the first dance and understood he was to open the dance with the Ambassador on his arm. The gentle swells of a Mozart minuet began and Harry held out his arm to the older woman. She was very elegant as she took his arm and walked onto the dance floor. Harry’s dance lessons from years ago kicked in. He was still not a terrific dancer, but he also no longer embarrassed himself or injured others. Kingsley had insisted on lessons after the first anniversary Ball when he had managed to step on at least a third of the guests’ feet. Now, Harry could now dance the Viennese and English Waltzes as well as the Foxtrot. He could even Tango and Salsa given enough Firewhiskey and a charm on his shoes so he didn’t trip over his own feet.

Fortunately, it never took more than thirty seconds for other couples to join the opening dancers on the floor and soon Harry and his partner were just part of the crowd.

“Mr. Potter, I am so happy that your story is going to help bring Wizards and Muggles together at last,” she said.

Harry looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

She stared at him. “Oh dear, you mean no one has told you?” Harry had a bad feeling about this.

“Told me what?”

“Well, I guess I may as well be the one to inform you since I’ll be writing it. The Ministry and I have been discussing how we could best introduce our world to Muggles. As you’ve been heard to express, and rightly so, Muggles may not accept us at first. So after much consideration, we decided the first story to share with them is yours: A Wizard who spent the first years of his life among Muggles and then became the Savior of the Wizarding World.”

Harry’s stomach sank. There were already several biographies of him out, none of them remotely factual.

“You said _you_ were writing this biography?”

“It’s not a biography. We think the best way to introduce Wizards to Muggles is by seeing how they react to your story, but it will be positioned as a fictional children’s tale. I will be assuming a Muggle identity and author the novels. It won’t be entirely fact-based as I’ll have to exaggerate some details in order to make the story cohesive but I hope I can count on your support to be sure the important things are correct?”

As horrible an idea as Harry thought this was, it would be the first time any author ever bothered to ask his opinion. He was sure some official would make him participate so he just nodded slightly. He wanted to throw a tantrum, but he would do so in the morning to Kingsley who would probably tell him he sympathized but that Harry had no choice. Harry could either help or not, but the project would move forward if the Minister wanted it to.

He was relieved when the song ended and his next partner stepped onto the floor. He stayed alert but saw no unusual guests arriving. He saw Ambassador Squaggles dancing with Ron. He wondered how Ron would take the news of the impending book. Ron didn’t seem particularly upset, but then he was more even tempered than Harry was these days. He was also far more graceful on the dance floor. Harry wondered if Hermione minded not coming. Ron and she always looked so nice dancing together.

* * * * *

 

“Mr. Potter, would you consider coming to the opening of our new Art Center for children?” partner number three, Mallorei Castus, asked.

* * * * *

 

“I saw you on the telly this morning,” partner number five said. She was an old woman whose name Harry couldn’t remember.

* * * * *

 

“You haven’t been in for awhile, Harry,” partner number eight, Tidus from the Ministry salon remarked. “I hope it wasn’t something I said.”

“Of course not, Tidus. I’ve been travelling. This is your first Ball, is it not?” Harry asked. He felt odd dancing with co-workers or other Ministry employees, but a number of them always lined up. He looked over at the wall and saw Severus and Sherlock standing side-by-side like mannequins, staring at him. He would need to go talk with them.

“Yes, it is. It’s quite lovely. You must enjoy all the attention,” he said. Harry noticed him looking at the line of people waiting to dance with Harry.

“Not really,” Harry answered. “I’m more of a private person.”

“Too bad. I think it would be nice to have everyone know who you are and to use your celebrity for a good cause,” the man said. Harry thought people who didn’t have to deal with fame always underestimated its impact on your life.

* * * * *

 

Partner number twelve never said a word. She just shook nervously and sweated in Harry’s hands.

* * * * *

 

“Anything?” Harry asked Ron as they took their spin. Loads of camera flashes went off. The press still liked to take photos of the “Heroes” together.

“No,” Ron answered. “But Draco is driving me mad. He made me put an _Auscultarepod_ on and has eavesdropped every conversation. I’ll never live down Francis Mangscatcher asking if I’d sign her tit. He’s threatened to tell Hermione and I didn’t even do it!”

“That’s a good idea, actually,” Harry said, mulling it over.

“Are you mad? Hermione would kill me if I touched another bird’s boob!” Ron said wide-eyed.

“I meant the bug, not signing some girl’s chest,” Harry answered with a laugh. “I should have thought of that.” Seeing Ron’s look, Harry added, “Again, I’m referring to the bug.”

“I’d give you mine, but you know they stick to you for eight hours before they die and fall off. Gives me the creeps knowing Draco might hear me taking a piss.” Ron shuddered. “I’ve been holding it for an hour.”

“Draco’s strictly heterosexual, Ron,” Harry said.

“You know that’s not what I meant. I wouldn’t give a care if it was you,” Ron replied. “I just imagine he’ll make snarky remarks about how us Weasleys can’t even take a proper piss or some shite like that,” he groused.

Lavender Brown tapped on Harry’s shoulder and pushed him out of the way to get into Ron’s arms. Ron grimaced as Harry stepped off to get a drink. Harry shrugged his shoulders. Ron had his own share of screaming fangirls. He thought it would be a good time to visit Sherlock and Severus who were most noticeably not dancing. He shook a few hands along the way.

“You might want to mingle a bit. You stick out,” Harry whispered as he reached them.

“I do not _‘mingle’_ ,” Severus stated.

“I can see that. And neither does Sherlock.” The tall man raised an eyebrow that matched Severus’. Harry shook his head. They were more alike than they would ever admit. No wonder they didn’t seem to like each other. He continued to needle them, “And you are not talking to each other either. It’s obvious you’re either a couple in the middle of a huge fight, you’re my private bodyguards or maybe crazed stalker fans. Anyone watching would have to be an idiot to try to do something with the way the two of you have been staring at me all night. We have to give the suspects an opening if we’re going to learn anything. Sherlock, go say ‘hello’ to Draco. I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you listen in on Ron’s conversations since he’s bugged him.”

Instead of listening to Harry’s suggestion, Sherlock grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. Harry saw Justin’s annoyed expression at the disruption to his schedule. Harry also saw the incensed look on Severus’ face.

Sherlock and he danced for a bit. Harry felt odd having Sherlock back in his arms. It was nice but somewhat anti-climactic. He heard Sherlock whisper, “You forgot something.”

Harry felt Sherlock’s hands reach into his robes and inside his pants pocket in an almost obscene way. “What are you doing?” He grabbed Sherlock’s hand before it got too far in. He felt something hard, there.

“Shush. Take it,” Sherlock said.

At that, Harry looked up as Severus stalked up behind Sherlock and grabbed his arm. Severus’ face was flushed red in irritation. He looked like an outraged lover. Harry hoped people would assume it was Sherlock that Severus was reacting to.

“Don’t,” Harry warned.

Severus glared at the both of them.

“It’s not what you think. Trust me,” Harry said.

“Fine. But I believe this is my dance, Harry.” Severus allowed Sherlock to pull his own hand out of Harry’s robe but very furtively pushed Sherlock to the side and pulled Harry tight against him to dance. Harry noticed that Justin glowered even harder at him.

“Severus, he just…” Harry began.

“You do not need to explain. I do not wish to discuss him right now. I wish to dance with you. May I lead?” Harry often had to take the first few steps to figure out who was leading when he danced with other men, but no one ever thought to ask him. He nodded. And with that, Severus began dancing. Harry had never had such a graceful dance partner. Severus led him confidently around the dance floor. He didn’t attempt any overly complicated moves. He also didn’t try to spin him endlessly as most bad dancers did when they didn’t know what else to do with their partner. He just led Harry effortlessly around the dance floor.

Harry lost himself in Severus’ eyes and the warmth of his long, lean body. The two of them seemed alone, even in this crowd. Harry found he wished he could dance more than once a year if he had a dance partner like Severus.

The music stopped and Severus was about to say something when Lucius Malfoy came up and tapped him on the shoulder. Harry’s stomach curled.

“I believe I am next, Mr. Potter. I must say, your dancing has improved greatly. Or is it just your partner?” Lucius gazed at Severus studiously. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he held out his hand to Severus. “Lucius Malfoy.”

Severus stared at him but didn’t answer. Harry stepped in. “This is Evan Kornavich. He’s from Berlin.”

Lucius turned to Severus and said, “Guten Abend! Ich nehme an, dass Sie Ihren Aufenthalt hier genießen. Obwohl Sie ein sehr talentierter Tänzer sind, möchte ich Sie bitten, die Tanzfläche zu verlassen, da es jetzt an mir ist, mit dem Jungen zu tanzen! Wenn ich bemerken sollte, dass Sie den Jungen weiterhin mit Ihren Blicken belästigen, steche ich Ihnen mit meinem Zauberstab die Augen aus. Ach ja, es war nett Ihnen begegnet zu sein. Haben Sie einen angenehmen Abend!”*

Harry watched as Severus paled at Lucius Malfoy’s words. Harry didn’t understand German so he wondered what the arrogant prat had said. Severus bowed to Harry and said in an unsteady tone, “It’s been a pleasure, sir.” The man walked off the floor leaving Harry concerned.

“What did you say, Malfoy?” Harry turned on the aristocratic blond who was eyeing him coolly.

“I merely welcomed him to our country and reminded him that you are one of our National Treasures. That boorish man has been gaping at you all evening. I didn’t want him getting any ideas.”

“So you were what, protecting my virtue? That’s a laugh,” Harry replied nastily.

“So ungracious, Harry. Now, I believe it’s my turn to dance with the _‘Belle of the Ball’_ so to speak.” He held out his arms and Harry unwillingly stepped into them.

They took a few spins in silence before Lucius leaned in quietly and whispered into Harry’s ear, “I believe you are in danger.”

Harry head shot back and he looked at Lucius appraisingly. “What?”

“Don’t be so obvious. You are being watched.”

“What makes you think that?”

“What do you know about the Ministry barber?”

“Who? Tidus?”

“I overheard him talking to someone I couldn’t see. He asked this man if Rose was secure. The man must have nodded because I heard Tidus say, and these are his exact words, ‘Good. That should make Potter willing to cooperate.’ Isn’t Rose the name of the female spawn of the youngest Weasley male?” Lucius asked.

Harry’s knees went a bit weak. What did he know about Tidus? The man had started six months ago. Harry assumed he had gone through the same, careful background checks that W.R. did on all prospective employees. What if it was an inside job?

He was about to reply when a young, pretty woman tapped on Lucius’ shoulder.

“It’s my turn,” she said, rudely. Harry backed off and looked at her. Another Witch he should know. She looked about 18. She was dressed very fashionably but her eyes looked slightly red and watery. He wondered if she was on Rapturous. That was one of the tell-tale signs.

“Could I dance the next song with you?” Harry asked. “I need to get a drink.” He really needed to find Kingsley and Ron. If Rose was in danger, they had to find her.

“No!” she yelled. “This is my favorite song and I want to dance to it, now.” She insisted with a stamp of her foot. Harry finally recollected that this was the daughter of the Ministry of Magic for France. He’d heard she was a bit of a handful. Since he didn’t want to start any international incidents, he acquiesced. He wondered where the lavishly adorned crup she had in her arms as a fashion accessory earlier this evening had gotten to.

Harry looked at Lucius, pleadingly.

Lucius smirked. “It’s all right, my dear. I need to speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt.” He nodded at Harry and Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Lucius understood what Harry had wanted. He would join them in a few minutes to make plans. He looked around for Sherlock and Severus. Severus was sitting in the corner still looking pale and pained. He couldn’t see Sherlock at all.

As the girl danced, she said, “I’m sorry. I was told I had to dance with you now. I have a message someone asked me to pass on or they would hurt my Lovikins.” Harry blinked at her. She whispered, “My baby. Oh Merlin, what if they hurt her?” She looked like she was about to cry. He realized she was talking about her pampered pet crup.

“It’s ok. Just give me the message,” he reassured her.

“Um, ok…it’s ‘Harry Potter needs to take a short break in the Wizards Wash on the fifth floor after this song ends or his hothouse flower will wilt.’ What does that mean?” she asked.

“Never mind. Who gave you this message?”

“I’m not supposed to say. They’re listening.” Harry was disappointed but saw she was making frantic movements with her eyes and eyebrows and realized she was trying to indicate who it was. He was impressed she had the presence of mind to do that considering how hard she was trembling.

There were of course a number of Witches and Wizards in the area she was indicating, but he noticed Tidus looking straight at him. The man turned and began walking out of the dance area and into the long corridor that would lead to the lifts.

“I’m also supposed to tell you that you can’t tell anyone either,” she whispered. “They’ll know if you do.”

“Thank you. I’ll handle it from here.” He turned to leave her when she grabbed his arm and whispered, “Be careful.”

 

* * * * *

 

As he walked, he fumbled with the device in his pocket that Sherlock had shoved there earlier. Since he knew he was being watched, he couldn’t pull it out. He touched his wand and pointed it at the device and hoped his aim was good. The possibility of misfiring a shrinking charm aimed at something near his privates would give any man pause.

He wasn’t sure if he was bugged or if they were using some kind of extendable ears to spy on him so he thought it prudent not to say anything out loud. He knew Severus had seen him leave and was discreetly following him. Once a spy, always a spy, Harry thought. The man was good. He wondered where the other Aurors were that were supposed to be guarding him.

* * * * *

 

Once in the bathroom, Tidus was already waiting for him along with another Wizard that Harry didn’t recognize.

“Ah, Harry Potter. I’m so glad you got my message and decided to join me,” Tidus greeted him in a friendly voice that grated on Harry’s nerves.

“How could I refuse?” Harry glared. He’d hardly ever had any interaction with him with the exception of a few haircuts. “So, I imagine you’re replacing me as we speak. You just need the real me out of the way, is that it? So who is it? The Ambassador?”

“Ah, well you always were a clever boy, weren’t you? I assume my boss is taking care of her as we speak.”

“Your boss? So you’re not behind this?” Harry was calculating frantically. He couldn’t just take Tidus and his goons out. His boss could injure Rose.

“Not entirely. Let’s say this is a joint venture. A partnership, if you will, in which we both have reasons to need you.”

“Me? So why involve Rose? You haven’t hurt her, have you?”

“No, she’s safe for now. To be honest, I would prefer to not to have to hurt her. As long as you cooperate, she’ll be fine.”

A third Wizard entered the room. Harry’s heart skipped a beat in expectation, but it seemed as if this was one of Tidus’ men.

“His guard dogs?” Tidus asked the man.

“They’re out,” the man replied in a thick Cockney accent that Harry recognized from the recording.

Harry hoped Severus was unharmed. He realized it meant he was on his own for now. “What do you want from me?” he asked Tidus.

“First, your wand, Harry.” Harry reached in and pulled out the wand that everyone knew he carried.

Tidus took it from him and handed it to the most recent arrival. “Take this to ‘You-Know-Who’.” The man grunted and left. Harry sincerely hoped the name referred to a generic criminal and not that Voldemort had returned again.

He also hoped Tidus wouldn’t suspect that Harry carried a back-up wand. Luck was with him as Tidus turned and placed his hand on Harry’s arm and touched a small medallion with his other hand. “Good. Now then, I need you to come with me. We’re going to take a little trip.” The other goon latched on and they Portkeyed out of the Ministry.

Harry wondered who had authorized a Portkey that worked in the Ministry. Tidus would never have the authority to do that so it must have been his boss. This was an inside job.

 

\-----

 

 ***German translation:** _“Hello. I do hope you’re enjoying your visit. You are an excellent dancer but it’s my turn with the boy so please remove yourself from the dance floor. And if I see you gawking at him any more, I shall gouge your eyes out with my wand. It’s been so nice to meet you. Do enjoy the rest of your evening.”_


	15. Captive

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\-----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 14 – Captive_

They reappeared in another version of the shop Harry had seen in the video. It was a seedy little place with shelves full of dark artifacts, bottles, powders and other grotesque shapes.

“Where are we?” Harry tried to look out of the window, but they were charmed to be impenetrable. “Is this the store where they found Toffington’s body,” he asked.

“Indeed it is,” Tidus answered. “Of course, it’s not where your people left it last.” Harry knew that since the shop had already vanished from its original location.

He saw a group of bottles with names like: the Philtre of Prince, Essence of Evan, Wilkens Concentrate, Spirit of Prewitt (male), and Royal Elixir. A niggling familiarity tickled Harry’s mind. These sounded so familiar.

“What are these?” Harry asked as he tried to shake off the remnants of dizziness from the Portkey.

Tidus looked at where Harry was looking. “Inventory,” He answered. “Brakkesh, hold him still, would you?” The large man grabbed both of Harry’s arms behind his back and gripped him tightly.

Suddenly, from a short distance they heard a woman yelling, “Don’t touch me!” Harry knew her. “Rose?!” he yelled.

“Uncle Harry?!” She sounded as if she was crying.

“Bastards, what are you doing to her? Let her go!” Harry wondered how they captured her and hoped everyone else was safe.

Harry struggled to free himself, but the man holding him was vastly larger. Tidus walked over with a short blade in his hand. Harry pushed back on his legs and head butted backwards into the large man’s chest. He used the force from that to kick his legs up and into Tidus’ chest and the man went sprawling onto the floor. He tried to scramble out from the man’s arms but instead the man threw Harry down on the floor and kneeled on the back of his legs and lower back, trapping Harry on the floor.

Tidus got up rubbing his chest. Harry looked up just in time to see Tidus’ squatting down beside him. A large hand grabbed the back of his hair and yanked his head backwards so Harry’s upper body was arched sharply upwards. It hurt.

Tidus’ darkened scowl lowered next to Harry’s face. “Lucky for you, I’m not into violence, but you do something like that again, I’ll let Brakkesh use you for his punching bag and maybe that pretty little niece of yours.” He wiped spit off his mouth. “Behave and she’ll be home by daybreak.”

Harry noticed he did not promise the same about him. He glared at Tidus defiantly from the corner of his eye but didn’t move again. The knife came into view and swished past Harry’s face. He could tell it lopped some hair off because the force holding his head back suddenly gave way and his face surged forward into the ground. It almost felt as if he broke his nose. He tasted blood.

“This is just a pit stop, Harry. I just need to fill a few orders before we go to our final destination.” He stood up with a large handful of Harry’s hair.

“What do you need more for? My doppelganger is already at the Ball carrying out your orders,” Harry spit out.

“Indeed, but surely you don’t believe that’s the only use we have for someone of your stature. No, you’re quite a valuable commodity even if you weren’t currently an Auror. When Toffington died, he had one of the last bottles on him which I neglected to retrieve so I now need to refill.” Tidus carefully filled several empty vials. After Tidus sealed them, he put them on the shelf with the lone remaining bottle of Essence of Evan. The new vials were all labeled the same. “I’m the Essence of Evan?” Harry croaked out. It suddenly hit him what those other bottles were. Hair from other Witches and Wizards. He finally recognized Molly Weasley’s maiden name, Prewitt, as well as some of the others.

“You’re very popular, too, I might add. Ah, celebrity does have it perks. Time to move on, pretty boy.” Harry finally realized that Tidus’ voice was the same as the one on the recording. Tidus was Lockhart.

Within seconds, Harry was taken to yet another location.

* * * * *

 

This time, it wasn’t a seedy store but a very non-descript room. There were no windows and a single door. The only furniture were several chairs and a table with bottles lined up on it just like the ones in the store.

“Now what?” Harry asked, afraid to learn the answer. The man pushed Potter onto one of the chairs.

“Now, we wait. I’ve delivered you. My part of this job is done. As I mentioned though, my boss has other uses for you,” Lockhart/Tidus said as he ran one finger along Harry’s jaw line. It creeped Harry out. _“Incarcerous!”_ Lockhart yelled and Harry was fully tied to the seat he was on. Harry knew he would have to wait to see who the other player was before he acted.

* * * * *

 

About an hour later, the sound of Apparition could be heard outside the door. To Harry’s amazement, Severus Snape walked into the room with a large bag in his hands.

“Mr. Potter, I imagine you are surprised to see me,” Snape said in his usual surly tones. He slammed the door behind him. Harry had seen nothing but a dingy white hallway beyond the door.

“You have no idea,” Harry said. He squirmed a bit in his bonds.

“What took you so long?” Tidus/Lockhart asked.

Snape glared at him. “As you can imagine, I needed to be sure I had a very observable exit and that the Floo registered my departure prior to the beginning of the rest of the evening’s events.”

“Is that why you used a Portkey for me? So it looks as if I haven’t left?” Harry asked. He assumed that his double would commit the crime, and with no Floo log of his exit, Harry would not have an alibi if he was _Obliviated_.

Snape turned his gaze to Harry. “You do have a brain, after all.”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t have a brain,” Snape said snidely. Lockhart glared at him but remained silent. Seemingly amused, Snape decided to answer Harry’s actual question. “Tidus never left. His double will be sure to stay very visible when the events take place.”

That made Harry wonder where the real Tidus was since Lockhart was evidently using Polyjuice for this disguise as well. He also wondered just how addicted the man was after using it for six months. Polyjuice addicts had unpredictable behavior. It would account for Lockhart’s uncharacteristic brutishness.

At the mention of his name, Lockhart stood up. “Did you bring them?”

Snape closed his eyes in impatience and responded as if Lockhart was a bowtruckle stuck on his shoes. He waved his wand and several bottles floated out of his bag. “Yes, here are the deaging potions.”

“And, you’re sure this will work?” Snape just raised an eyebrow. “Right, right of course you would know, Severus,” Tidus said with an unusual drawl on Snape’s name. “I’ll go prepare our friend.” He took both the deaging potions and bottles of Harry’s hair and walked out of the room.

“Why do you need deaging potions, Snape?” Harry asked, being sure to also over-enunciate the name. He found it hard to look at the man. He was dressed in his old fashioned teaching robes and his hair was back to solid black and long – just as he'd been when Harry first saw him lying on his bed.

“As if I would reveal my plans to you,” Snape said condescendingly. “You’d never remember them anyway. When we’re done, you’ll be _Obliviated_ like the rest of them.” Snape turned around watching for Lockhart’s return. At least Harry thought that was what he was doing.

While Snape’s back was to him, Harry had managed to get his hand on his spare wand. He’d have stupefied the man, but tied up like this meant he wouldn’t have enough time to undo the knots before Lockhart returned. Quietly, he whispered _“Revelio”_ and could see the long blond hair of Lucius Malfoy before him. He quickly undid the spell. Harry thought it clever that Lucius had tried to “warn” Harry ahead of time to provide an alibi for himself. It was probably also why he was Polyjuiced. Who better than a dead man to commit your crimes for you? Of course, that now told Harry that Lucius was involved in Snape’s resurrection in some fashion.

Lockhart returned and nodded to Lucius.

Lucius smiled. “Good. Go ahead and get the rest of his hair. I believe I shall go visit my new playmate. Join us when you’re ready. I think Harry might enjoy a front row seat.” Lucius left with a sinister smile on Snape’s face that made Harry shudder. From the hallway, he heard, “Harry, my boy, are you ready for a little fun?”


	16. The Truth Unravels

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\---**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Chapter 15 – The Truth Unravels_

Harry had cocked an ear to the door and heard the response, “I’m always ready, Professor.” The voice was eerily similar to his own. The door shut and Harry couldn’t hear anything else.

“Who was…?” Harry asked Lockhart.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“It sounded like me.”

“Very nearly like. I can assure you, he also looks very much like you. We have some very talented employees.”

The implications were staggering. Harry felt sick to his stomach. Had Lucius always wanted Harry? Why, then, use someone else? They had him prisoner. Lucius could have taken him right there. As an Auror, Harry knew that there was always a possibility of sexual violence among the criminals he chased.

Lockhart sat on a chair at an angle from Harry so Harry couldn’t get his wand pointed in the right direction. He hoped the man walked in front of him at some point.

“I can see by the look on your face that you’ve figured out exactly what your friend Snape is up to. He’s waited a long time to get his revenge on you for leaving him to die in the Shrieking Shack.”

“Nice try – Lockhart.” Lockhart’s eyes widened at the recognition. Harry felt he should keep him on his toes. “That’s not Severus Snape.”

“I can assure you Severus Snape did not die twenty years ago,” Lockhart replied, obviously trying to confuse Harry.

“That much I know,” Harry said, looking directly into Lockhart’s eyes. “It would have been a clever plan, too, if Severus Snape hadn’t been at my house for the last few days. What happened anyway? Did you kill that man or did he try to kill Severus?”

Lockhart sat back and looked at Harry. “Harry, Harry, Harry… you really are so much smarter than I imagined.” He looked as if he was considering something. “Do you know that you and your little friends ruined my life? I may have my memory back, but my life is gone. I can’t even show my real face in public. You also ruined the lives of many others. My partner for one.” He had that smug tone that Harry had hated since the first class with the man.

“What I don’t understand is how you hooked up with Lucius Malfoy.” Harry knew he was pushing it. He hoped it would anger Lockhart enough to do something stupid. He hoped it would be to brag about his elaborate scheme. The man had loved talking about himself and Harry was counting on him still being a conceited braggart.

“Since I’ll _Obliviate_ you anyway, I’ll tell you. We have some time before Lucius is ready for us.”

Harry almost cheered. He hoped the _iPhone_ was still recording or transmitting. Even if he didn’t make it out alive or with his own memory intact, someone might figure out what happened if they found it.

Lockhart settled in to tell Harry just how brilliant their plan was. “Lucius did in fact save Severus Snape back then. He was unaware of Snape’s treachery in deceiving the Death Eaters. He used a form of Draught of Living Death which essentially stopped time for Severus. Lucius planned to revive him later but was sent to Azkaban. So Severus Snape slept in solitude for many years until Lucius was set free. By the time of his release though, he had no money left except for the Manor which Narcissa refused to give up so Lucius had to find another way to restore the wealth that you caused him to lose. I’m sure he thought about just killing his former friend, but those years in prison made him think of other schemes. Schemes that one of the world’s foremost Potions Masters could help him with, given the right persuasion.”

“When Severus was first revived though, he refused to help. Lucius decided he could help in other ways and returned him to his unconscious state until Lucius solidified his plans.”

“Then several things occurred. The improved Polyjuice formula was invented and Wizards began to welcome Muggle technology into their daily lives. Once the revamped formula was restricted, Lucius found an black market willing to pay a lot of money for it. Severus may have been a great Potions maker, but Lucius was also adept at it. And he had no qualms about its side effects. If people were willing to use it, he would happily provide it. It created a nice sum of money for him.”

“Then he began to realize just why people were using it,” Lockhart said with a grin. “And it wasn’t just the occasional foray into robbery or identification theft. Lucius’ biggest customers were underground brothels that provided any type of Muggle you wanted if you could afford it.”

Harry began to see where this was going and it sickened him. “That’s disgusting. Muggles have rights, too.”

“There is no law against impersonating a Muggle, Harry. As an Auror, you know this. It’s only illegal to Polyjuice into a Witch or Wizard. As far as the clients were concerned, they were not breaking the law any more than they already were by selling sex.”

“Lucius was making money, but not enough to get him what he really wanted. One day his son came for dinner and they had the most interesting discussion about something you had found on the Wizarding Web – a pornographic image of you and his son with your broomsticks. Of course, Draco said the two of you laughed it off since it was badly drawn but that’s when Lucius had the idea. How many people would pay to sleep with one of the Wizarding World’s biggest heroes? How much would they pay?”

“You’re saying that Lucius did this for money, not because he..he wanted…” Harry couldn’t finish the thought.

“Oh, my dear boy, do you think he lusted after you?” Lockhart laughed. “No, he prefers women. That’s not to say he hasn’t enjoyed your ‘charms’ over the last few months. You are quite delectable, after all. But that was not the reason he did this. It was pure business.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief even knowing that either reason was despicable.

“Lucius realized of course, he’d have to have a steady supply of your hair and that of the others. He also needed a way to be sure no one would remember. As fate would have it, he remembered my gifts with memory charms. He chose to invest in the best doctors and had them resume work on my recovery since Ministry funding for my care had all but dried up for anything but the basics. Lucius handled of all the details once I regained my memories.”

“So he was the one that had the records altered?”

“It was simple enough. One of the Mediwitches was addicted to Rapturous which he provided. Then it was my job to ensure she forgot she did it.”

“Is that also how you ended up at the Ministry?”

“It’s where you and several other celebrated Witches and Wizards were employed. Where better to get the supply than from the Ministry Barber Shoppe? All I would need to do is snip, clip and divert the required _Evanesco_ of hair from its usual destination into a special box that I could retrieve any time I wanted to.”

“Where is the real Tidus?” Harry asked.

“Oh, he’s in safe keeping so I can harvest his hair whenever I need to. You know, he’s a real barber. That made it much easier to get in for the interview. Once the Ministry W.R. had checked my ‘references’, I was a shoo-in, but a little _Imperius_ on Pansy Parkinson guaranteed my hiring.

“You already had my hair. Why kidnap me now?”

“Honestly, when I failed to get you last night through the Floo, we had to improvise. We had planned to replace both you and Kingsley at the Ball in order to get to the Ambassador, however once that plan failed, we knew wand security protocols would be instituted. That meant the wand had to match the Wizard so our Harry and Kingsley couldn’t arrive at the Ball, they had to change there. It really was quite inconvenient. You’re a hard man to find at times, but we knew you’d be there tonight and we needed supplies. It was really killing two snitches with one bludger.”

“Okay. But how did Snape fit in to this?”

“Snape was revived once again once Lucius realized there was a market for him as well. He attempted to use hair from him while still in stasis, but it never took. Whenever one of our employees took the potion, they passed out. An unconscious hooker is not a big money maker,” Lockhart explained, amused at his own quip.

“So the people who use it are all prostitutes?”

“Certainly! We would never use anyone unwilling. Our clients have certain scenarios they like to play and they want their playmates to convincingly play along. Our ‘actors’ are highly trained and well-paid. I can’t say the same for all of the outside brothels we supply, but generally we like to deal with establishments who only use willing employees.” Lockhart seemed quite proud of the ‘working conditions’ they provided. “You are our best seller,” he said with a smile.

That made Harry want to vomit. Lockhart stood up and began cutting Harry’s hair very short. The hair was magically collected in the bottles sitting on the table.

“Back to Snape. We had to revive him in order to get his hair to work properly. He was brought to the store so we could wake him briefly, get what we needed and knock him back out. Unfortunately, I was interrupted by a customer who had just picked up one of your vials when I heard Severus blast our inventory and attempt to escape. I tried to stop him but he deflected my curse and it hit the other man and killed him. In the confusion, I was able to cast _Petrificus Totalus_.”

“I contacted Lucius for instructions. I was to leave Toffington’s body and reset the Muggle look of the place so the Muggle authorities would have a _John Doe_. He had me slash Toffington’s throat and shove the knife in Snape’s hand. I dropped the vase on the floor to make it look as though Toffington fought back. I _Obliviated_ Snape and then I left to call the Muggle authorities using a pay phone a block down the street. I noticed someone walking through the front door and panicked. I raced back into the alley and came in through the back door to see who it was. As you know, that was Sherlock Holmes. Of course, I didn’t know who he was until later. Lucius recognized him from my memories and told me he used to be your Muggle partner. At the time I just thought he was a nosy wizard. I attempted to _Stupefy_ him but he Portkeyed away before I cast the spell. Imagine my surprise when the first Muggle officer walked in. I had no idea Muggle law enforcement would get there so quickly. I had to Apparate out and leave everything behind. I had hoped to retrieve the vial from Toffington later but we realized it was only a matter of time before the Aurors learned about Severus Snape so we had to adapt our plans. I immediately went to the Ministry, at Lucius’ request, and assumed Kingsley’s identity in order to retrieve you before that nosy Muggle ruined everything.”

“So, then you’re the one that _Obliviated_ Snape,” Harry conjectured.

“ _Obliviate Maximus_ to be precise. I couldn’t tell what he’d be able to remember so I wiped everything out. How is he without that sparkling personality of his?”

Harry was relieved that it wasn’t Sherlock’s mistake that had caused Severus’ amnesia. He assumed that Severus’ innate _Occlumency_ skills prevented the spell from permanently damaging his memories. “Is that what you’re going to do to me?” he asked.

“Oh no. I’ll only _Obliviate_ the last few hours and implant the memories from our other Harry who’s been dancing in your stead.”

It occurred to Harry that that was what Lockhart had done to the kids – implanted false memories. That would explain the dizziness they had experienced.

“We have two Harrys that are truly remarkable. They will be most convincing in our first film,” Lockhart was leering at him.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what tonight is really about Harry. Selling you to individual clients is profitable, but do you know what’s even more profitable?”

“Uh, no.” Harry thought he really didn’t want to know.

“Pornography. It’s the number one use of the internet – both in the Muggle word and in the Wizarding World. And while there are plenty of legal sites available, the most profitable are the ones that deal in subjects that are not legal. Our employees can only service so many individual people at a time. The internet makes you accessible to many more who are willing to pay a few galleons to watch you in action. I was surprised to learn that the most requested scenario is to see you in Professor Snape’s detention. Lucius aims to please his clients and so that’s what they’ll get. All we need to do is record one session and we can sell it to hundreds of thousands of people. We are about to get extremely wealthy. All thanks to you.”

If Harry wasn’t already sitting down, he would have collapsed.

“You – you aren’t using Rose like that are you?” he whispered.

“Goodness no. She’s underage. The penalties for that are too high to risk. It’s much easier to get the desired Witches or Wizards once they are of age and then use a deaging potion if our clients are so inclined. That doesn’t carry the same penalties if they’re caught.”

“Then why?

“I could get Ron Weasley’s and your hair at the Ministry, but what about the lovely Miss Granger? Or Ginny Weasley? Luna Lovegood? Or Neville Longbottom? No, our clients want celebrities. They want to see the heroes of Hogwarts debauched. Rose and her friends were merely the means of obtaining our supplies outside of the Ministry.”

“Were Scorpius or Draco in on this?”

“No. Lucius wouldn’t involve his family except he did use Scorpius, unbeknownst to him, as the go between to get Rose and her other friends to Floo to the Manor from Madame Puddifoot’s. From there, Lucius would create the Portkey to the store so we could collect the supplies they had gathered since their last visit. When they Portkeyed back to the Manor, Lucius would then Imperius their next set of instructions on them.”

That was a lot of information to absorb and Harry had a hundred questions. _‘They Flooed to the Manor? Then why was Rose at the store yesterday?’_ Harry wondered. After some consideration, he understood. A store that moved would not be able to be connected to the Floo Network, nor could you Portkey directly into a warded location. They would have had to have had a central place to Floo to in order for Lucius to create the Portkey. He probably also had them deliver the supplies directly so he would never be seen near the store if it was ever compromised.

Another part of the statement just hit him. “Lucius _Imperiused_ and _Obliviated_ his own grandson?” How could someone do that to a family member they professed to love?

“A necessary requirement I’m afraid,” Lockhart answered.

“Is Lavender Brown is part of your scheme?”

“That insipid little idiot?!” Harry thought that insult coming from Lockhart was ironic. “Of course not. She was just too stupid to see what was happening. The Crup and Kneazle is too popular with adults so it was impractical. The only other possible place was one still run by Aberforth Dumbledore but we thought he would catch on eventually. Lavender was perfectly oblivious so that made it a good gathering point for the students. After they were done at the Manor, I would wait for the students to visit the washrooms, which had been part of their instructions. I _Obliviated_ everything that had occurred in the last hour and modified their memories.”

The sound of the scissors stopped. “So Harry, shall we go see how your film debut is progressing. I think Lucius was quite anxious to portray the role of Snape!”

A loud bang and a scuffle was heard outside. Lockhart ran over towards the door to see what the noise was. Harry took that moment and yelled “ _Stupefy!_ ” The spell hit Lockhart square in the back and he went down in a thud. Harry knew he’d only have a few minutes to get out before Lockhart awoke or Malfoy came back.

He struggled but couldn’t seem to get the wand pointed at a piece of rope. He thought about Incendio, but what if he caught his robes on fire? There was yelling in the hallway. The door opened a little and Harry saw Severus’ dark eyes looking in and down at Lockhart’s body. He hoped it was the real one.

Severus leaned in and waved his wand to float Lockhart’s body to the side. He rushed in after the body was no longer blocking access to the room.

“Rose? Where’s Rose?” Harry yelled.

Severus began unraveling the rope as he answered. “She’s safe, Harry. We found her about twenty minutes ago.” Severus kissed his forehead. “Sorry we took so long but I knew you would prefer us to focus on her first.”

“It’s Malfoy,” Harry spluttered.

“I know. My memories have been racing back since I saw him,” Severus admitted. The implication hit Harry. Severus remembered who he was...and who Harry was and still came…and still kissed Harry on the head. Once free, Harry leapt up and kissed Severus full on the mouth in relief before realizing his limbs weren’t working properly and collapsed in Severus’ arms. Severus held on tight and returned the kiss.

“Isn’t this touching,” Lucius said in Snape’s voice. He had Apparated in behind Harry and put a wand to Harry’s head.

“Back off. Evan, was it? You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Lucius said. “Harry and I will be leaving now.”

Lucius attempted to Apparate with Harry in tow but bounced back. Severus looked at him. “The Aurors have placed anti-Apparation wards around this building. You’re not going anywhere.”

Lucius thrust his wand out when Harry heard, “Drop your wand!”

Kingsley was standing there with a wand trained on Lucius. He entered the room and stepped over Lockhart’s prone body.

Lucius pointed his wand at Severus and said, “That’s the culprit there. I saw him stalking Harry earlier and thought I’d follow him.”

Harry suddenly lunged for Lucius’ wand. “Give it up already,” Harry said as they wrestled.

Lucius let go and acted as if he was going to give up. He then took a sudden run at the door when he was blocked by Sherlock as he stepped around the corner with a hand punch to the throat. Lucius went down gasping for air.

Harry saw a half-clad version of himself being hauled down the hallways by other Aurors. “They could have at least put more clothes on him.” He had noticed the Gryffindor tie still hanging on the otherwise naked chest.

“It’s more than you wore on the cover of _Quidditch Weekly_ back in ’02,” Kingsley said.

“I was a lot younger then.”

“So is he.” Sherlock said and Harry grimaced remembering the deaging potion.

Severus leaned in behind Harry and whispered, “But he doesn’t have your tattoo.” Harry shook his head in mild amusement. At least they were all safe.

They began to walk out of the room. Harry bent over Lockhart and retrieved his wand with Kingsley’s approval. They were going to leave the clean-up to everyone else.

“How did you find me anyway?” Harry asked they walked down the hall.

“GPS. I tracked your phone,” Sherlock said. “I hoped that it hadn’t occurred to them that you might also be using Muggle technology.”

“You were right. He took one wand from me and never bothered to search me,” Harry said.

“Lockhart was always an idiot,” Severus commented.

“I think Lucius shares that same view,” Harry said. Severus looked at him curiously. “It was his fault their grand scheme came crashing down.” He leaned in and whispered to Severus, “But you’re the real hero. If you hadn’t fought back that first time, none of this would have been discovered.” Harry grinned at him. Severus gave a satisfied huff. Harry could see he was trying not to smile. Harry took hold of his hand as they walked together.

“I think I need to look closer at Muggle technology for the Auror program,” Kingsley said to the group at large as they walked into the street and to a place they could Apparate from. Harry recognized they were on Warwick Avenue, near Regent’s Canal.

“And Rose? How did you find her? Was that also the GPS?”

“You have Sherlock’s friend, John, to thank for that,” Severus said. “After you were Portkeyed out of the Wizard’s Wash, I went back to inform Sherlock and Kingsley about what had happened. We had to get the Ambassador to safety, capture the other Harry and find Rose before we attempted to rescue you.” Severus looked at Sherlock for the rest of the explanation.

Sherlock took the story up. “I’d had John monitoring Flitter to see if any new mentions of the ‘Essence of Evan’ appeared. Since we had obviously disrupted their previous plans, they would have had to notify their clients of their sudden change of location.” Harry realized that meant Sherlock had to have told John the truth about the Wizarding World. He was about to speak up when Sherlock stopped him. “Yes. He knows. Kingsley gave me permission to bring him into this.”

Harry looked at Kingsley, who nodded. Sherlock continued. “I’d been texting John who had indeed found a new message with a new string of numbers. I, unfortunately, didn’t hear your conversation over the music but the line was still open and recording. Once Severus found me, you had already been taken to your new location so I didn’t have the GPS information for the store. I stopped recording to end the file in order to send it to Kingsley and then started recording again. We went to his office to listen to the file I sent. Your conversation told us that Rose was at the store and my text chat with John had just told me how to find it.”

“Really?” Harry was stunned.

“He mentioned that the numbers in the new message looked like longitude and latitude coordinates but that there were too many numbers. I recalled Draco also mentioned there were too many numbers in the previous message for them to be apparition coordinates. But then John pointed out that today’s date was in the middle of the numbers: 2905 or 29 May. That made me realize that since the store moved every few days, they not only had to tell their clients where they’d be, but when they’d be there, so then I assumed some of those numbers would have to be the date and time of its appearance. Really clever people would throw a few additional numbers in for safety, but there would have to be a pattern there clients could understand. All we had to do was to figure out what the date and time numbers were and what the filler numbers were. I assumed the 15th number began the date, 2905, since the 15th number on the previous message was 28. That gave me the starting point.”

Harry gaped at him. “That’s bloody brilliant. How did you calculate all that so quickly?”

Severus arched an eyebrow. “Don’t let Sherlock fool you. Kingsley got the Unspeakables on it. They do use Muggle computers, and using Sherlock’s theory, they were able to narrow down all the possible locations. We assumed they stayed somewhere in the UK which narrowed things considerably. Then it was a matter of finding the store and Kingsley sent a pair of Aurors to each location to check the areas. Having twenty Aurors checking each coordinate, we found the store in less than twenty minutes. Once the raid was done and Rose was safe, we went to the GPS coordinates Sherlock had for you.”

Harry stared at the three men. “That is completely amazing.” He stopped for a moment and looked at Kingsley, “You do know what they were doing, right?” The reality of what Malfoy and Lockhart had done was hitting him. His likeness and those of his friends were being sold and were being used by prostitutes. They were going to make films of them. He felt his stomach churn.

Kingsley put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and nodded. “Harry, take some time off. We’ll track down every last piece of evidence, customer and criminal involved in this ring and close it down. I will keep you posted.” He Apparated away.

“Take care, Harry,” Sherlock said and turned to leave.

“Tell John ‘thank you’,” Harry said and Sherlock nodded before rounding the corner.

Severus put his arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Let’s go home,” he suggested.


	17. Finding Comfort

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

Warning: Herein be the smex…

\----

 **Crime is of the Essence**  
-  
 _Chapter 16 – Finding Comfort_

Harry and Severus arrived back in Grimmauld Place. Severus still had his arm wrapped around Harry. As much as Harry loved the feel of his warmth, he felt dirty so he stepped away from him.

Trying to diffuse the awkwardness, he asked, “I thought you couldn’t speak German, so how did you understand what Lucius said?”

“I didn’t,” Severus replied.

“But…you seemed to get pale when he threatened you,” Harry said to remind him.

“I had a sudden influx of memories when I saw him. That’s what I was reacting to but I didn’t have time to tell you. The images were coming so fast, I couldn’t quite process them.”

Severus sat on the arm of the couch, which Harry decided to designate as his spot. “I remembered him waking me up and threatening me in order to work with him. When I refused, I remember his anger and his promise to ruin you. I almost gave in.”

“He used me to threaten you? But why? Why would he think that would be effective?”

“He knew my weakness, Harry. He knew I would do anything to protect you.”

Harry stepped up to him and picked up one of his hands and gazed down at the man. “For my mother?” Harry asked softly. At Severus’ startled look, Harry added, “I still have your memories.”

“At first for her,” Severus agreed. “By your final years, it was about you. I’d come to want you to live. After Dumbledore’s death, I knew my role had changed drastically and that you hated me more than ever. But over the course of the following year, I came to admire your tenacity and bravery.”

“I never thanked you for the Sword of Gryffindor,” Harry whispered now that he knew Severus’ memories had returned. “Or for anything else.” Harry thought of how Severus made sure Rose was safe first. Severus knew that would have been Harry’s priority.

“By the lake. Yes. Well, that night reminded me how foolish you could be. I almost jumped in after you. I would have if Mr. Weasley hadn’t appeared. It also reminded me that you were no longer a boy, but a man.”

Severus was looking away. Harry tucked his hand under Severus’ and pulled it back to him. He bent down and kissed Severus gently on the lips . “Did you feel guilty about that?”

Severus shook his head and with a short laugh said, “With everything I’d done, I could hardly feel guilty for that.” Harry knew that statement for the lie it was. “I did wish at the time though that I was a much younger man.”

Harry touched his forehead to Severus’. “Or maybe that I was much older?” Harry asked. He stood up and ran his hand through his oddly cut hair. “Well, look at me now - I am older.”

He tugged on Severus’ hand to pull him up. “I feel the need to cleanse myself. Join me in the shower?” Harry suggested. Severus hesitated, but Harry was pleased he didn’t run screaming the other way.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Harry added in the hopes Severus wouldn’t be scared off and kept tugging him towards the stairs. “I should warn you, I’m not as young as I used to be. Not quite as flexible.”

“I’m sure you need help washing your back,” Severus said with an arched brow.

“Maybe even my feet,” Harry winked at him.

* * * * *

 

The warm water ran over their bodies. Severus was as diligent in washing every part of Harry as he was when he diced potion ingredients. His long hands ran over Harry’s muscles with gentleness. His back, his arms and then Severus bent down on his knees to take the soft washcloth over each of Harry’s legs. He caressed his calf muscles along the way.

“Lift,” Severus ordered.

Harry lifted his left leg and Severus took his foot and soaped it up, massaging each tendon with firm, strong strokes. Harry could barely stand on his other leg, it felt so good. He now understood what Fleur meant. There was something very private about someone bent before you massaging your foot in the shower. Severus put it down and lifted the other one. _‘Lather, Rinse, Repeat,’_ Harry thought in a moment of absurd clarity.

Harry was beginning to harden at the lovely caresses and when Severus washed back up the inside of his leg to wash his balls and cock, it felt overpowering. The moment Severus kissed the tip was heavenly.

“Your turn,” Harry said as he stroked Severus short hair. He now thought they had almost the same haircut – very short. He took the wash cloth from Severus and began to return the favor, as softly and carefully as Severus had for him. The feel of Severus' foot in his own hands was odd. He had never considered the foot an erogenous zone, but the moans from above him told Harry that he’d have to rethink that. Harry vowed to give long, slow massages to Severus in the near future.

He finally moved up to wash Severus’ penis and was pleased to find it thick and hard. Harry wanted to swallow it whole, but instead, did the same as Severus and kissed the tip of it.

“Time to dry off and go to bed,” Harry said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Severus added and helped him out of the tub.

They dried each other in between kisses and Harry pulled him out of the bathroom and onto the bed. As they continued to kiss, Harry fumbled in his nightstand, pulled out a bottle of lube and handed it to Severus.

Severus looked down on Harry below him and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Harry answered breathlessly. He needed reassurance that Severus wanted him. Knowing how his likeness may have been used, he needed to know that those people weren’t him. That Severus was the only person who saw the real Harry.

Severus took it and sat it down next to Harry and lowered his mouth onto Harry’s. Their tongues slowly circled around each other. Severus rested his weight on Harry’s body. The heat and friction between them built slowly. Harry felt his snitch tattoo fluttering madly in excitement.

Severus slid down his body and slipped his fingers behind Harry’s balls and stroked his perineum as his mouth softly suckled on Harry’s cock. His long deft fingers began to prepare him. Harry felt the sensation of the lube slicking him.

“Please, Severus,” Harry asked with a desperate tone. Needing more, he started thrusting onto Severus’ fingers.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” Severus said jokingly, but Harry saw the heated gaze of Severus’ eyes staring at his face and knew Severus was just as needy.

Severus sat up and placed himself at Harry’s entrance and pushed in slowly. It had been so long for Harry, but his body remembered this. Remembered how to relax and let someone in. It felt so damned good, almost as good as being the one entering. Someday he hoped, Severus would welcome him the way he was welcoming Severus.

Once sheathed, Severus bent down and began kissing Harry again but didn’t move otherwise. Harry’s legs wrapped themselves around Severus almost of their own accord and Harry thrust up. That small thrust seemed to ignite something in Severus and he began to drive into Harry while watching his face intently. Harry almost thought Severus intended to do Legilimens on him while they made love. The idea that Severus could be in his body and mind at the same time sent a sudden rush of desire through him. He knew someday he would want that, but not today so he closed his eyes for a moment. He knew it was too soon. He reopened his eyes to see Severus’ face scrunched up in pleasure.

“Harry,” he moaned.

“Severus,” Harry answered.

Harry reached down to take a hold of himself. He stroked himself to Severus’ rhythm. He was almost there. He could almost feel his balls drawing up when Severus exploded inside him. Severus collapsed on him but in a few moments rolled to Harry’s side and wrapped his hand around Harry’s and together they brought Harry to climax while Severus explored Harry’s mouth once again. Severus picked up the wand on the dresser where Harry had left it and waved a cleansing charm.

“Brilliant,” Harry muttered as he curled up to Severus’ side. He hoped the man took it to mean he should stay there and not go to his own room.

“As brilliant as Mr. Holmes?” Severus asked with a hint of jealousy. Harry found he rather liked the possessive tone.

“He may be a genius, but you’re far more brilliant. You’re with me,” Harry teased.

“Yes, I am,” Severus agreed and then turned the lights off with a final wave of his wand.


	18. Epilogue

And I still don’t own either Harry Potter or BBC’s Sherlock. I also make no money on this either….

 _Story note: The year is 2018. It’s canon until the Epilogue. Harry never married. Ron and Hermione had Rose and Hugo earlier than indicated in the books so that they are older in this story. Rose was born in 2002 and Hugo in 2005. Other minor modifications made without notice probably!_

 **Reminder: The Sherlock in this story is from BBC's Sherlock which is set in contemporary times. This IS NOT Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock nor any traditional versions as portrayed by Jeremy Brett or any other actor. This is Sherlock as portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. You do not need to have seen the BBC series to follow this story.**

 **\----**

 ** Crime is of the Essence  **

_Epilogue_

Harry was sitting on the couch anxiously listening to Kingsley’s report.

“Harry, I’m pleased to inform you that not only have all the vials of your hair been traced down and destroyed, we’ve been able to erase all the recordings of everyone else involved as well. We can find no evidence of any remaining video footage anywhere.”

“That’s certainly an area where Muggles are behind Wizarding technology,” Sherlock acknowledged. “We’d never be able to track down everyone who downloaded or shared illegal material in such a thorough way. It’s far too time consuming.”

Kingsley nodded. “We use a spell that travels the internet connections and magically seeks out illegal files and automatically destroys them. Unless someone actually burned them to a device not hooked into the wwww, it’s gone. And if anyone tries to upload it again, the spell will reactivate.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. At least he didn’t have to worry about so-called ‘authentic photos and videos’ of Severus or him appearing on the web. Severus rubbed circles on his back in comfort from his perch on the arm of the sofa.

“And what of the _‘Johnsons’_?” Severus asked.

Sherlock laughed. “I think you mean _‘Johns’_ , Severus, although in this case perhaps ‘Johnson’ is more appropriate.” No one else laughed. They just stared at him. “I apologize, Muggle reference. Do go on.”

Kingsley turned back to Harry and Severus. “All the people who purchased your hair have been rounded up. Your friend, Magistrate Millsbury permitted the use of Veritaserum to expedite the case and to locate Tidus. In the end, they were sentenced to ten years in Azkaban and their memories of you and the other victims were permanently _Obliviated_. They won’t remember any of the events in question. We are implementing stronger safety protocols around Polyjuice and will now track _Obliviate_ like we do the killing curse. No one will be able to use it in the UK without the Ministry’s knowledge and approval. I hope that puts your mind at rest.”

“Thank you, Kingsley. By the way, how did they manage to get your hair?” Harry had learned that Lockhart had, as ‘Kingsley’, authorized the Portkey just after his failed attempt at kidnapping Harry. In the midst of the excitement, no one thought to review ‘Kingsley’s’ requests during that brief span of time between the failed attempt and when Harry finally notified the real Kingsley. Just Harry’s luck that the one time Lockhart thought on his feet was the time they had all failed as investigators. He should have thought of it.

Kingsley looked chagrined. “I may be bald on top, but now that I am older, my ears are not. I forgot I had them trimmed a few weeks ago.”

Harry made a face. He didn’t feel so bad now. Kingsley looked at them threateningly. “And if any of you tell anyone, I’m docking your pay.”

“I don’t work for you,” both Sherlock and Severus said at the same time.

“I’ll find a way,” he threatened. “I must be off. I need to talk to the Weasleys as well. I do hope you enjoy your time off,” Kingsley said before he left.

Harry and Severus were holding hands and smiling. Sherlock stood. “I must be going as well. John has decided he would like to go to the Rugby game tonight and says I owe him after leaving him out of most of this investigation. He’s upset that he can’t blog about it.” Sherlock stood awkwardly for a moment before Harry stood as well.

Harry went over and put his arms around his former lover and held him tightly for a moment. Sherlock patted him gently on the back. “You _never_ were good with PDAs,” Harry laughed. “Thank you. For everything.”

There was silence for a few moments and then Sherlock said, “Maybe if you and Severus would like to join us for dinner sometime…” He sounded hesitant.

“We’d love to. Wouldn’t we, Severus?” Harry glared at Severus who was obviously not excited about the prospect.

Harry raised his eyebrows at him and Severus gave in. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it,” Severus said with just a hint of sourness.

After Sherlock left, Harry came back and wrapped his arms around Severus. “Finally alone.”

“PDAs?” Severus asked.

“Public Displays of Affection,” Harry answered. He kissed Severus lightly and used a gentle pressure to get Severus to kiss back. The last few days since he had gotten his memory back, Severus had been hesitant to continue their relationship. Harry was using kissing to persuade him otherwise and he knew it was working because Severus always gave in and then deepened their kisses.

Tongues swirled gently around each other. Harry slipped his hands under Severus’ jumper to feel the warm flesh underneath. He pushed closer in between Severus’ legs until he was flush against him and smoothed his hands along Severus’ back. Severus’ long fingers wound their way into Harry’s hair and his other arm wrapped tightly round his waist. For several delicious minutes they tasted each other.

Severus pulled back and gazed at Harry. “I prefer more personal ones,” he said.

“And I think we should go to bed,” Harry whispered. He’d been given two weeks leave to recover. He intended to have he and Severus recuperate together – in bed.

“It’s only 9:00 am. We just got up,” Severus replied, huskily.

“What can I say? I’m a lazy boy.” Harry pulled back and took Severus’ hand to lead him upstairs.

“You’re a wicked boy, that’s what you are,” Severus corrected.

“Are you going to punish me? Give me detention? Spank me like all those stories?” Harry joked.

“Not today, but I’ll keep that in mind if you get too unruly,” Severus warned and patted Harry’s ass on the way up the steps.

“Well, I best behave then or we’ll give all those fangirls something to really write about.”

 

_The End_

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Thank you to everyone who read this. I hope you enjoyed this little mystery! It was a fun challenge to work on.

 **I'd love reviews, but please remember not to give the mystery away if you do! If you have comments about the plot, please message me directly. The thing about a mystery is all the fun's gone once you know who did it.**


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